Hot Shots
by Hargasm23
Summary: aka one shots that are hot
1. The Kiss

_This is a shout out to the time poor, commitment phobes, those who loath waiting for updates as much as I do and readers who want to get to the 'goods' without wading through those pesky plots, set ups and background information. _

_The plan is to make this a mixed bag - some smutty, some angsty, some angry, some tensiony, some romancey, some emotional. Who knows? But if you know me at all, there is a good chance the M rating will apply to 97% of them._

_Thank you to my awesome beta LeMiSo who not only fixes the slip-ups but is a constant sounding board to my ideas. _

_This one's set mid Season 12. As always, I own nothing._

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The Kiss

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They were running down the internal staircase, her heels echoing through the confines with each step. One flight, two flights, three flights and she saw the charcoal door with the EXIT sign illuminated.

He had glanced over his shoulder to ensure she wasn't far behind. His footwear enabled him to be a lot faster than hers. He waited a few beats for her to catch up before he pushed open the emergency exit bar and the cold night air slammed into them like a wall.

She was in a cocktail dress in the dead of winter and her coat was still inside. There had been no time to salvage it. Her purse concealing her weapon had also been abandoned.

She barely made it two steps outside when Elliot stopped abruptly in his tracks and she practically rammed into his back. She heard his breath catch and her stomach dropped at the possibility of what he'd seen. That's when he turned, grabbed her by the upper arms and pushed her up against the harsh brick of the alley wall.

It was rough as hell against the bare skin of her back and the cold only amplified the harsh burn. The back of her head connected with the wall and her mouth opened, moaning her discomfort. His eyes connected with hers for a millisecond and she had seen the panic in those pools of blue. Moments later he was leaning in and his lips crashed onto hers. Her mind spiralled; he'd used her open mouth as an advantage, pulling her bottom lip between his.

She couldn't feel the cold anymore.

He moved in, his body pressing her further against the wall and she felt her skin scrape against the brick but she didn't care. One hand raked through her hair while the other grasped her waist holding her steadily.

He seized her top lip between his and without thinking she opened her mouth to him. Her stomach dropped when he eagerly reciprocated opening his mouth and taking her. Her arms, which hung in limbo, made motions, one snaking around his neck the other framing the side of his face as he deepened the kiss.

She knew what this was, this was a survival tactic, a diversion, someone was there and had seen them, it had to be. But she could care less.

Right now she should be frantically analysing the threat possibility and readying herself for a potential showdown but all she could do was stand there and welcomely let Elliot take her. His lips pulled away from hers and began kissing down her jaw line until he reached the base of her ear. She could breathe again, short, sharp, ragged breaths that clouded in front of her.

"9 o'clock Banebridge, he still there?" He murmured into her neck and his warm breath felt welcomely heated.

She turned her head a little further to get a better view, giving him greater access to her neck. She felt his rough lips trail across the smoothness and she willed her eyes to remain open. She saw Nathan Banebridge talking to his buddies at the end of the alley. They weren't looking in their direction but could have easily spotted them.

"Uh huh," she managed and her barely coherent response seemed pathetic but words were not forthcoming at this point. He pushed his lips into her neck then hitting a sensitive spot and her eyes slipped shut. She wanted to moan.

"If he recognises us," Elliot mumbled between kisses but he didn't need to finish. She knew what Nathan was capable of, their cover had been blown inside the club and he'd take great satisfaction bringing two cops down.

As Elliot's lips continued to work her neck, she grasped his bicep for stability, forcing her eyes open. As they flickered against the street light she saw Nathan turning in their direction and she moved quickly facing Elliot.

"El, he's-" she managed but he'd already captured her lips again, his hand framing her face to block potential recognition.

His lips were rough and he kissed her with a confidence that knocked the wind out of her. His hand at her waist slid down over her hip and grasped her upper thigh. Her eyes opened and she watched him with avid curiosity as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Without warning his leg moved between hers and his upper thigh incidentally pressed between her legs. The moan escaped her lips before she could control it and it was muffled by his mouth.

_Fuck. _

She could tell he had registered the moan because his lips had turned slightly upward as he continued the kiss. The bastard was smiling. She knew in that moment she was screwed. All of his actions had been for the benefit of their audience but her weak moan had only been for them.

His hand framing her face skimmed down her jaw line and over her collarbone and for a moment she thought he was going to continue the downward path over her breast. Instead he moved it to the side of her torso, his thumb skimming the outside of her breast as it slid down to her waist.

Her nipples were as hard as hell. If the cold night air wasn't bad enough, his near grope would have sealed the deal. His chest was pushing against hers and she knew he'd be able to feel her reaction through the cotton of his shirt.

His kisses were rough and unyielding and her lips were starting to burn but she didn't care. All she could think about was his tongue and what she would give to feel it in her mouth right now, gliding against hers. _Fuck_. There was no logical reason for that, everything he was doing to her had a visual purpose. His hands, his lips, his body all making hers respond far too well to him.

Her mind was spinning at what was happening right now. Twelve years of glances, platonic touches and a couple of brief embraces, and now here she was; pressed up against a wall while her partner went to town on her.

Her heart was racing at just how far he was taking this, taking her. He'd kept his lower half at a safe distance but his hands didn't need to be on her thigh and his leg certainly didn't need to be wedged between hers. He also didn't really need to be kissing her like _that... _did he? She was trying to rationalize his actions in her mind but when his teeth clamped down on her bottom lip, her restraint slipped definitively out of her grasp. If he was going to push the envelope, then so would she.

She moved quickly, her arms encircling the back of his head pulling him closer and sliding her tongue into his open mouth. He moaned in surprise, the sensation vibrating against her lips and it hit her hard between the legs.

His lower half crashed into hers and when his erection pushed into her hip, her breath caught in shock. She thought for a moment he'd move away out of embarrassment but he stayed against her, hard and urgent. His tongue slid into her mouth and when it met with hers she practically whimpered rocking her lower half against his.

A low rumble escaped his throat, almost sounding like he was in pain and suddenly his lower half was coming off hers. He grasped her hip suddenly, holding her against the wall so their lower halves no longer touched and he continued to kiss her. She thought for a moment he was going to put on the breaks but his hand was now moving north across the plains of her stomach.

She felt light headed as his hand continued his ascent up her body until it finally closed over her breast. _Jesus._ He squeezed her gently and she pulled her lips from his to catch her breath, her eyebrows knotting together at the sheer intensity of it all.

She turned her head to the side, her eyes drifting to a close as he thumbed her erect nipple through the silk dress. She groaned and arched her back into his palm. His lips found her neck again and he kissed her hard. Her eyes flittered open and as she took in the sight to her left it hit her like a ton of bricks. The men had vacated the alley and they were officially alone. The disappointment smothered her.

Elliot continued to nip at her neck and she wondered if she just closed her eyes again would it really be so bad? Did he really have to know what she'd just seen? Couldn't she just wait a few minutes until he figured it out for himself? _Fuck._ Her conscience was taking over now and it was the prospect of impending sleep deprivation and culpability that made her reluctantly give in.

Her mouth opened to say something when she felt his hand skim up her thigh, dragging the hem of dress with it. Her heart began racing at thoughts of what he would do and _dear god_ she wanted to find out. If she just waited one more minute – 30 seconds even – she tried bargaining with herself.

His hand drew higher up the outside of her thigh and paused letting his thumb run over satin of her panties at her hip. His teeth sunk into her neck and she felt his thigh wedge further between her legs, spreading them in the process, causing a rush of pleasure at the contact. When his thumb slid under the material at her hip she bit her lip to stop the moan from escaping.

_Fuck._ She couldn't do this. She couldn't let this go on. She couldn't deal with the sleepless nights and the repressed anger that would ensue. This would only drive a bigger wedge between them if she didn't end this now. As his thumb swiped beneath the satin at her hip and his fingers closed around the waistband her eyes snapped open.

"Elliot, stop."

The words had come out in a breath and his lips stilled on her neck. He slowly moved up to face her. Her cheeks were flushed and she was desperately trying to control the rise and fall of her chest.

He looked at her anxiously as if he were worried he'd crossed a severe line and she was about to call him on it. His hand released the material quickly and as his mouth made motions to respond, she eased his concerns.

"You can stop," she said explained, her head falling back against the cold bricks. He moved his line of sight to the end of the alley and she saw the harsh reality flash across his eyes. They were alone and quite possibly had been for some time.

He still had her pinned to the wall and he must have only just realised it because his hand left her hip completely. Her dress fell rightfully back down her thigh as he pulled away to give her some breathing space. He just stood there, his breaths unsteady as he watched her with an intense look of concern on his face. She was reading him with her eyes and knew exactly what he was thinking. The sharp pang hit her square in the chest. _Regret._ She pushed herself off the wall, tearing her eyes away from him uneasily.

"We should get out of here," she told him quickly. Her words had been firm but her voice couldn't help but crack under pressure.

She began walking towards the opening of the alley and after a brief pause she heard him follow her reluctantly. She waited momentarily at the juncture of the street ensuring they were alone before she rounded the corner.

As she made her way towards the car she stopped at the passenger door making a concerted effort not to look in his direction. When he unlocked the vehicle she wasted no time opening the door and sliding in. She pulled her seatbelt across her chest and clicked it into place before he'd even opened his door. She counted the 3 seconds of silence she was granted before his door opened and he was sliding in. A few beats passed before he even reached for his seatbelt.

She was looking straight ahead when he clicked his belt into place and she noticed he'd still made no motions to start the car. The silence was stifling.

She closed her eyes and tried to will her heart rate to settle down but with each passing second the frustration and anger was starting to build at his lack of urgency.

There was still that possibility of danger – what was he waiting for?

"Liv," his voice broke through the silence and it was quiet and unsteady. Her eyes dropped down to his hands and she noticed they were shaking slightly as they rested upon his thighs. She saw it then, the light ricocheting from the street lamp onto the gold band making it twinkle momentarily and for a short sharp moment she thought her heart actually stopped.

She knew he was watching her but she still couldn't for the life of her tear her eyes away from his ring. When his hand twitched under her gaze it must have snapped her back into reality because she was finding her voice.

"Start the car, Elliot," she told him sternly and the silence that existed between them continued to take up all their oxygen. When he still didn't move, she felt distant pin pricks of tears approaching and she willed herself to control it. She was not going to do this here. Not here, not now. She would wait until she was in the privacy of her own home before she let any of the reality sink in.

She felt his eyes on her face now but she wouldn't dare chance a glance at him, instead she rubbed her hands together as if insinuating it was the warmth she craved from the ignition and nothing else. It didn't work. His keys still sat idol in his grasp as he continued to stare at her.

She closed her eyes and counted to 5. _One, two, three, four-_

"Olivia," his voice was just a whisper and it was something about the use of her full name that made the anger start to churn and her restraint to slip definitively from her grasp.

"Start the god damn car, Elliot," she yelled and the demand had come out louder than she'd anticipated, vibrating against the confines of the vehicle.

She felt the moments exist between them and she could hear his words as clear as day. The apology, the remorse, the injustice of it all and the acceptance that what they had shared tonight was all it could ever be. Her eyes squinted against the pinpricks that had returned and were now more incessant. It wasn't until he moved his eyes off her completely that she managed to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

Elliot fingered the keys in his hand and she knew it would be moments, seconds before he'd insert the key into the ignition and they'd go on with their lives. She pulled her lower lip into her mouth and bit into it so intently she almost drew blood.

As the silence lingered it almost felt as if he were waiting for her, holding onto last minute hope and she wondered if there were any words out there that could change them. She contemplated the prospect but it wasn't long until the irrelevance surfaced and it became redundant because words had never been her forte.

A wave of tiredness crashed over her and she felt her aching body sink further into the seat of the Sedan. Her head rolled until she was facing the passenger window and she watched the passerby's moving on with their lives, when all she'd ever felt was stagnant in hers. Her eyes slowly drifted to a slow close, her body began to relax and she finally let out the breath she'd been holding.

And just like that, the engine roared into life.

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End.


	2. The Roof

_Inspired by the movie Cliffhanger. Set season 12 post Pursuit. Thank you Leah. _

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The Roof

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The gun was trained at her temple and it was Gitano and Rojas all over again.

Only it wasn't – it was different now.

They had grown so much, overcome their issues, they had pushed through and they were stronger. Things were finally getting back on track for them and this, _this_ – was not part of the plan.

But now wasn't the time to crumble at the notion that the breaths he watched her take right now could be her last.

The night Sonya was murdered he'd allowed himself to embrace Olivia because the thought that it could have so easily been her had rattled him to his core. She was walking towards him, he picked up the pace and when they collided he finally allowed himself to breathe again. It was real, tangible proof of life, intertwining against his body.

But it hadn't been enough.

She'd brushed it off, pulled away from him and told him she was fine. _Bullshit_. He had wanted more, to pull her back against him, hold her, inhale her, touch her. _Taste her_. He'd been a real pro at pushing those forbidden thoughts to the back of his mind for 12 solidifying years but as he held her within his arms, temptation dangled so dangerously close that he nearly cracked.

Now however – here – all bets were _fucking_ off. As he watched the prick with his arm across her chest and the metal barrel pressed forcibly against her temple he made a silent promise to himself. If he got her out alive this time, he was going to do a damn sight more than just hug her.

As he watched the loose chocolate strands flap wildly around her face it was a painful reminder that they were on the rooftop of an 18 storey building. There had been no time to radio for back up and for all Cragen knew they were on their way back to the precinct.

His eyes were locked tightly onto hers as he trained the gun at the pricks head and forced his hands to remain steady. Her mouth parted and he could see the hold he had on her was tight. She was trying to tell him something with her eyes and it was the same thing he told her many years ago on that fateful day in the warehouse.

_Take the shot._

Well the chamber might as well be empty because there was no way in hell he was going to shoot and she should damn well know this by now. He shivered as the flashbacks flicked over in his mind, from the day this tie between them first fused. He felt the bile rise up his throat because he knew this situation was practically a mirror image. The location, dynamics and motives were different but the threat, the feeling and trepidation was identical.

Seven years on and they hadn't learned a _fucking_ thing.

He had already tried talking, negotiating, bargaining with the guy but he'd made it clear he wasn't going to respond to a deal or a plea or a promise. It was abundantly clear he was willing to die today and he had no hesitation bringing a cop down with him.

He watched the guy take a step backwards, dragging her along with him and it was one step closer to the edge. He had been too focused on the gun to consider that behind them was a much larger threat. A wide open space. A fatal drop down to the bustling streets of Manhattan, fenced only by a small lip of bricks no taller than the prick's knees.

He could pull her over in a second.

He took another step and it was the noise that ripped through Olivia's throat that told him he wasn't intending on stopping this time.

Elliot dropped the gun without another thought and he was running, one step turned into two and by the third he was screaming. The backs of the guy's knees collided with the wall and he was hulling her over with him. He knew he had moments, seconds - millimetres until gravity would win out and she would fall to her death. He felt like he was moving in slow motion because his feet were like cement and all he heard was her screaming for him.

_Elliot!_

He didn't know how logistically it happened but he launched at her, putting everything he had into it because if she went over, he might as well too. As their collective bodies doubled over the wall, it was her wrist that he secured and it was an excruciating pull as both Olivia and the perp fell over the edge.

The scream that wretched from her throat was bloodcurdling and he thought he must have ripped her arm out of her socket in the process. His muscles buckled under pressure and he felt the weight practically halve as the perp slipped suddenly beneath them. A noise of alarm echoed through his ears at the startling possibility that she could be next. He didn't watch the body fall the 18 storeys, instead he focused on those chocolate pools and the tiny shred of hope he had of pulling his partner up.

His grip on her wrist was like iron and he tried to block out the likely fact that he was crushing her bones. His knees were on the ground and his hips dug into the side of the wall as he tried to get some traction.

He needed her other arm.

Her whimpers came out in jagged bursts and he didn't think he'd ever seen her so petrified. He knew then that she thought she was going to die, that his vain hold on her wrist wouldn't be enough to save her.

"Your other arm," he shouted and it was a firm demand, as if he were pissed she hadn't tried to reach up sooner. When the words escaped him all he could think was he didn't want that to be the last thing she ever heard him say.

She was heavy and the angle was a violent pull that crushed his hips against brick. He felt the faint film of perspiration beneath his palm and she slipped enough to make his heart leap into his throat. She screamed at the motion and he felt the bile permeate in his throat because time between them was rapidly dwindling.

"Fuck Olivia," he yelled abruptly, "your other arm!"

He could see she was panicking because even if she lifted her other arm she would still need to hoist her body upward in order to reach him. He knew the odds weren't on his side and there was a good chance the momentum would be too much for him to withstand but it didn't matter, the risk was paramount.

Soon there would be no other option.

"Now goddamn it," he screamed and finally her hand started to rise. He leaned further over the edge in an effort to reach but it was too far down and she wasn't using her body to swing up to him.

"El," she wept and he heard the deflation in her voice but this wasn't happening. She wasn't giving up, she wasn't going to die today. The car horns that blared beneath them sounded imminently closer but he refused to look any further than her.

"I can't," she whispered and he felt her slip just a little further. He realized in a panic that she wasn't screaming anymore and he knew it was because she'd accepted her fate. He hated her in that moment for giving in, for giving up, because defeat and his partner had never been an affiliation. The woman he knew would fight until her last breath._ Not this._

Her dark eyes connected with his and she blinked, the moisture seeping out, spilling down her cheeks before they finally drew to a close.

"I'm sorry," her voice was a whisper and the devastation sliced him in half because he knew she was about to say goodbye.

He wanted to tell her everything. He'd had 12 long years to fucking tell her what she meant to him and it was only now, when she was moments from leaving him forever that he was going to say it. The words soared through his body until they lay imminent on the tip of his tongue.

You're everything.

His eyes began to water and it wasn't because the wind on the rooftop was a fierce sting, it was because the defeat she had omitted was now overtaking his body.

"El it's ok," he heard her whisper and a tear broke away, slipping down the bridge of his nose because it wasn't ok. _Fuck_, it could never be ok and he couldn't believe that she thought it would be. His throat was constricted and he could barely breathe, his bicep was buckling and the tremors from the strain radiated down into her palm. He refused to acknowledge that it was over, he could still feel the signs of life in his grasp and he was not going to succumb to this defeat. His grip became steel and although he was losing leverage he wasn't _fucking_ letting go.

"On three," he choked out, refusing to acknowledge the alternative. He realised this was it, if she didn't comply, if she didn't attempt to hoist her other hand up to him, in moments he would watch her slip through his fingers. He didn't even ask if she understood because he was already moving his body further down the wall regardless and she was just fucking going to do this.

"One," he breathed and the confidence he counted on finally kicked in, "two," he rushed and it was a wave of adrenaline that crashed into him when he said it.

"Three."

He felt her body pull defiantly downward before she hoisted her free hand up towards him and he seized it into an iron lock. A barrage of relief flooded through him and despite the fact that they weren't out of the woods, he was a damn sight more hopeful. He was rushing now, he tried to yank her up the wall but she was heavy and he was bent over bricks. She practically face planted into the wall in front of her and he realised in panic that he couldn't get her any higher.

When he lowered her back to her original position her chest scraped against the brick of building and a noise of alarm escaped her. He needed to try again, slower this time, he needed to get her high enough so she could wrap her arms around his neck. He could then let go of her wrists and pull her up with his free hands. It was a risk, a big one, and just the idea of letting go of her wrists seemed inconceivable.

"I'm going to pull you up, put one hand on the wall, the other around my neck okay?" he told her in a controlled fashion, his voice slipping into negotiation mode.

"Don't drop me," she whispered and she was repeating the words over and over like some kind of mantra.

_Don't drop me, don't drop me, don't drop me._

He blocked it out because talking like that would help no one, he needed to focus on the positive. It was a stretch but he told himself she'd rock climbed before and this wasn't far off the mark.

"One," he resumed his mode from before, "two" he countered, "three." He didn't think about risks, or consequences or outcomes, he merely focused on yanking her body up the wall. He managed to get one of her hands around the lip of the brick and she latched onto it, but she still didn't have enough leverage to pull herself up. He felt her shaking, her bicep trembling under the pressure and she was calling out in a frenzy because it was all too much.

"Round my neck," he yelled and as he lifted her other hand higher her fingers curled around the back of his neck. When he felt her short nails dig into his flesh he'd never been more grateful to feel such an aching pinch.

She called out in exertion as she attempted to pull herself up but he was trying to tell her that if she stayed still he could do it for her. His hand was still on her wrists because he wasn't confident that if he let go, she'd stay intact.

"You got me?" he called downward and his lips practically skimmed the crown of her head. He could smell the familiar shampoo and he promised himself that after today, he was going inhale that scent for the rest of his goddamned life. She wasn't responding, her body was still, there was no verbal response from her and his mind was fucking screaming at her to just comply.

"Damn it! Olivia, you got me?" he called out, his voice cracking slightly and he felt her fingers dig further into his neck. He took that as confirmation because he needed this to be over and he needed it over now. He wanted her on the other side of this wall, safe beside him and he wasn't waiting a minute longer.

"I'm going to let go of your wrists and grab your waist," he told her hurriedly because her hold on his neck was already starting to buckle and it was becoming an overwhelming pinch.

"Don't let go, don't let go," she called out against the bricks and it was clear she didn't think she had enough support to hold herself.

"You have the wall, my neck, just pretend you're on the rock wall Olivia, I'm only letting go for a second."

_It would only take a second to fall._

"Okay," she practically whimpered. The lack of confidence did nothing to ease his concern but he if he didn't move soon, his neck would fucking snap under the pressure.

"One..." he whispered, "two..." he swallowed.

"Three."

He let the pressure off her wrists and she called out but he was quick to swoop down, his fingers biting into the skin of her waist. They sunk into the bare flesh where her sweater had ridden up and he tried to get a good hold but his grip continued to slip. She was groaning her exertion and it wasn't until a hand moved lower and latched onto her belt that he could breathe again. He wretched her upward and the relief was immanent. He lifted her a good couple of inches but he needed his other hand on her belt if this was going to work.

"You're other hand," he whispered, keeping the tone as calm and serene as possible. "Move it around my neck," he explained.

"No," she stabbed and he could already feel her body trembling at the idea of letting go of the wall.

"I've got you, do it Liv," he whispered and he tried not to let the frustration seep into his words. When she didn't respond and all he could feel was the tremors wracking through her body, he lost it.

"Now goddamn it," he yelled and he realised then that he had forgotten to count her in and she was already reaching upward for his neck.

He wasn't ready, his hand slipped from her belt and her grip around his neck loosened and suddenly she was sliding downward. He didn't think, he propelled himself over, his knees were no longer on sturdy ground and he was tipping over the wall with her. As she slipped his arms caught her under her arms, his fingers interlocking around her back and he knew this was it.

They were both going over.

"DROP ME!" Her shriek rattled through his eardrums and his grip was secure but his body's affiliation with solid ground wasn't.

"NOW!" she screamed as she felt their bodies slip further over the edge. He closed his eyes. He couldn't watch this, he couldn't watch as he failed her for the final time and they both soared towards the final demise of their partnership. The tears had dried up and he mouthed the words that he knew would never be enough.

_I'm sorry._

As he fell the remaining inch his knee wedged into something hollow and suddenly he wasn't slipping anymore, he was braced. He didn't know what his knee was caught on but he was fucking going to use it.

He didn't speak, just planted his knee into the crevice and wretched her entire body upward. The brunt of the weight was a strain on his knee and back and he gritted his teeth in anticipation that he might actually snap something. The saving grace was that his fingers were interlocked into a vice under her arms so all he needed was for his knee to remain steady. He pulled her upward, her fingernails clawed into his biceps and her sweater rose in the process.

It was when he got her far enough that his knee could slip back down the wall that he thanked his lucky stars because he knew he had this. He pulled her quickly, because his knee was a throbbing ache and her bare stomach slid over the harsh bricks. She called out in pain and it killed him but it was the only way he could pull her over when the rest of his body was resisting the wall. As her hips raked over the bricks he couldn't believe this was about to be over.

He gave her one firm yank, his foot pushing against the wall and they slipped backward. His back landed with a thud on the firm cement of the rooftop and her body followed suit. Her chest collapsed into his side and he'd never been so relieved in his life. Her hip dug into his thigh and her fingers pressed into his biceps as if she were still in danger of falling.

He responded immediately wrapping his arms around her back, holding her securely against him. He felt the air in her lungs expel from the pressure and it warmed the skin on his neck. He closed his eyes against the harshness of the sun and gave her no choice but to sink into the embrace. He knew he was holding her too tight and that he needed to ease up, but he still wasn't convinced she hadn't fallen.

Their breathing was manic, chests rising and falling at alternating times. They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he started to feel her move against him. Her hands slipped shakily down his body, across his bicep, then forearm until he felt her arch slightly into him and he realized she was grabbing for her radio in the back of her jeans.

With one hand on the device and the other clutching his shoulder she detached herself uneasily from his body and rolled onto her back. He turned with her until the side of her face filled his line of sight and he watched her lift the receiver up to her mouth.

"SVU portable to cent-"

He didn't think, it was a flurry of adrenaline as he snatched the radio from her grasp. She turned to him in shock and his heartbeat became a violent thump in his rib cage. As he slid his hand behind the back of her head he saw his intent flash across her face. The warning in her eyes didn't stop him from pulling her forward and when his mouth crashed against hers a calming silence enveloped him.

He held her lips against his until oxygen became a necessity. He opened his mouth to draw a breath and when he felt her do the same he used it, latching onto her lower lip. He pulled it between his and revelled in the fact that after twelve years he was finally tasting her. Her mouth was warm and inviting but it counteracted the resistance he felt in his grasp.

_Fuck it,_ he needed this to count, he needed her to know. He opened her mouth with his and rolled her onto her back, cushioning the back of her head with his palm. The moment he drew another breath he regretted it because her lips started to move.

"El-" but the weight of his chest that dropped onto hers cut her off. He pulled her lower lip into his mouth and he knew he was fucking everything up but he'd made a promise to himself mere moments ago and that was all that mattered.

His mouth was insistent against hers and knew he'd leave her lips swollen and bruised. He felt her body twist beneath his and it was her feeble attempt at denying this. As he tilted her head and drove his tongue between her lips, he felt the fight within her fracture as her vocal response vibrated into his mouth. He took it as permission to slide on top of her, wedging a leg between hers.

He continued to kiss her, one palm still cradling her head while the other held her cheek in place. He swiped her tongue with his and fuck it was everything and nothing at the same time because her hands were now pushing at him. He finally tore his mouth off hers long enough to let her speak.

"Stop," she rasped against his mouth, gasping for air and the rejection sliced him in half. He wanted to ask her why. Why couldn't she succumb to the unspoken truth that existed between them? Why did she have to let consequence and reality drive them apart? He let his lips trail across her cheek and she allowed him to make it to the crux of her neck before she spoke.

"We have to call this in," she choked out and although he heard determination in her voice, he could tell her restraint was slipping.

"Not yet," he pressed his lips firmly into her neck and she shivered against his touch. He shifted above her, unintentionally rocking the top of his thigh between her legs. A noise escaped her mouth, her eyebrows drew together and her breath lodged in her throat.

"El, don't," she rasped but the throatiness of her command coupled with his nickname hit him hard between the legs. As he watched her swollen lips gasp for air he was a goddamn prick because he couldn't stop himself from rocking his lower half into her once more.

The low moan was a mixture of frustration and arousal and he could tell she was slowly losing the battle. She clawed for the radio, which he'd dropped haphazardly beside them but he was too quick, snatching it from her hands and sending it soaring metres away.

"Son of a-" she started but his mouth cut her off, plunging his tongue between her lips again. She arched beneath him and he felt her hips twist in an effort to resist him. When her struggle resulted in her thigh rubbing firmly across his crotch a groan ripped from his throat, vibrating against her lips.

The last grip on his so-called reality left him and he pushed his lower half into hers, rocking her firmly against the cement. She moaned, her head slipping back, and he trailed his mouth down column of her neck as he continued to grind himself against her. He knew what this was; it was desperation, aching, an overwhelming need to feel her life against his mouth, his body, between his legs. His teeth latched onto her neck and the palm coating her cheek slid down, over her collarbone and across her breast.

He squeezed the fullness and the hardness of her nipple was unmistakable beneath his palm. It was everything he'd denied himself for so long, it was frantic and it was rushed, and common decency had taken a backseat. The front of his jeans were a tight ache and he let his thumb trace the tip of the hardened nub. The groan escaped her first and then he felt it, her lower half pushing into his and her sudden compliance crashed into him like a title wave.

He mumbled the start of her name before his mouth smothered hers again. She rocked herself against his thigh and he could feel her insistence start to escalate. He moaned into her mouth, gripped her hip and when her teeth clamped down on his lower lip it was clear she was done holding back. Her hands trailed through the back of his cropped hair and as she drove her tongue into his mouth he groaned in appreciation. His erection dug into her thigh and as her tongue swiped across his he slammed his hardness into her.

"Unh," she whimpered, her head falling back and he breathed against her neck as they continued to grind against each other. Her breathy moans filled his ears, each one louder than the last but he needed more, more contact, bare flesh, no barriers. He wanted to slip his hand between her legs, feel the heat, the desire, the life. He wanted proof that there was blood pumping through her veins and that he hadn't let her slam forcibly into pavement.

It was a starting reality when he heard interference crackle on the radio before Fin's voice sent him hurtling back to reality.

"Liv, you there? Come in?"

_Fuck no._

He felt her whole body tense beneath his as if she'd just jolted into consciousness and he knew reality had just slammed into her like a freight train._ Their partnership, his marriage, 12 years imploding in this one definitive moment._ He knew he had seconds before this would end but he wasn't ready for reality to surface.

"No," he whispered in desperation, his lips skimming the ridge of her cheek before he tried to latch his mouth back onto hers. She twisted away, his lips bumping her cheek as her chest arched into his.

"El please," she whispered, trying to slide out from under him but he was a heavy weight.

As the crackling from the radio resumed and he refused to let up, she finally turned back to him and their eyes locked. He could see the plea within her irises, she was begging him to just stop – _to just think_ and the truth within her eyes was as clear as if she'd just voiced it.

_We can't._

As each passing second ticked by, his insides crumbled and his body became a frozen fixture on hers. The wind hummed in his ears and the dull ringing blocked out the sounds around him, beneath him. He watched as she mouthed his name and somehow he managed to slide his body off hers.

She scrambled towards the radio, as if it were her only connection to reality and he fell back onto the cement, scrubbing a hand over his face.

_Fuck._

"SVU portable to central, suspect is down, we need a bus," her voice echoed through his haze and he already felt the distance seeping between them.

He knew by her tone of voice and the crack of worry, that she was detaching herself from what just happened. It was a cold, startling realisation when it became clear that she would move on from this. She'd attribute their actions to the shock, the stress, a goddamn brain snap – anything. She'd rationalize a thousand likely scenarios before she'd admit the truth.

The interference resumed before Elliot heard Fin's voice seep through.

"Copy, you and Elliot ok?"

There was a slight pause, a flicker of hesitation before she turned back and they locked eyes. He thought just maybe he'd pushed her far enough, wedged himself so physically into her space and her being that maybe he'd irreversibly broken her.

But as she clicked the receiver down and the lie escaped her mouth, the world as he knew it crashed around him.

"We're ok."

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Undecided.


	3. The Ache

_So this one shot came about because my back hurt, then coincidentally hannah_waldron requested this exact same plot line *cue x-files theme song*. It was beta'ed by the sweetest SugarCoastedBS and my voice of reason lilyrose steered it to a hotter place without even reading it – she's that good. wolfmusic218 was my muse for this on a number of occasions *blushes* and somewhere along the way it turned into the longest one shot in the history of time. Throw in a hint of OOC, PWP an **MA rating for course language & sexual content **and my usual touch of twisty darkness and you've got - The Ache. Oh and I dedicate it to booboo56283 as an apology for being such a relentless cocktease. Forgive me?_

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The muscles in her back were a throbbing ache.

She arched backwards in her desk chair until moments into her stretch she heard the crack. A temporary feeling of relief swarmed across her lower back.

She bowed her head forward, her fingers sinking into the muscles of her neck attempting to knead the strain that permeated her muscles. She thumbed down the tip of her spine until her fingers slid under the lip of her sweater. She moved as far down her aching shoulder blade as she could reach until a deep voice jolted her out of it.

"Hey," a throaty whisper caused her eyes to snap open and her heart rate to accelerate. Her eyes locked onto the indistinct silhouette. The dim bulb that emanated from her desk lamp cast shadows over his features, making him appear foreign.

She knew the timbre of his voice like the back of her hand, yet she squinted unconvinced it was him. She let her irises trace the plains of his face, distorted by the contrasting light verse shade until finally her eyes adjusted to familiarity.

"Jesus El," she whispered, slowly pulling her hand out of her sweater. "You scared the hell out of me." She hadn't meant to appear rattled but he'd spooked her to the point where she had been moments from drawing her weapon.

When he didn't answer her, the thump of her heartbeat refused to taper back down and she couldn't ignore the instinctual feeling that something was off. He had left the precinct hours ago, supposedly to have dinner with his wife, yet here he was standing a few paces from her - cloaked in darkness.

"You ok?" he asked and the irony that he'd just asked _her_ the question hadn't escaped her. She squinted once more, wishing he would just step into the light because the distance and the darkness wasn't easing her anxiety. She wondered how long he had been standing there, watching her battle the ache in her muscles.

She cleared her throat, her voice still horse from infrequent use and fingered the pen in front of her. The beats of silence rocked forcibly into her and she couldn't understand why he was just standing there.

"I'm fine," she whispered, ignoring the tension and trying her best to appear nonchalant. "Michaels did a number on me." She considered expanding, explaining that her back hadn't recovered since their perp tackled her to the ground three days ago but the intensity of his gaze rendered her silent.

When he did nothing but fuel the silence she finally broke off the stifling eye contact and moved her neck from side to side, stretching it. Her eyes drew to a close - anything to detract from the discomfort of his presence.

"You get it checked out?" he questioned with concern and she heard him take a step. When she opened her eyes he was pulling absently at a few scattered papers on his desk until he located the phone he'd left behind. She let out the breath she was holding at the confirmation of his presence.

"I'll be fine," she brushed it off, focusing more on the fact that it appeared that he wasn't. She assumed it had to do with Kathy. She'd caught the tail end of the short and abrupt phone calls but had respectfully kept out of it.

His eyes were now back on her and it made her uneasy, the brunt of his attention took up all the oxygen in the room and she felt smothered. She knew what he was thinking, she could see it clear as day. _Michaels_ - her back; her inability to admit when she needed help.

Tonight however, she was in no mood.

She dropped the pen in front of her and closed the file she had stayed back to finish. When she stood up she realized in seconds that she had turned too quickly and the muscle spasm was a sharp twinge in her lower back. She steadied herself on the desk, her fingers curling under the lip of wood as the pang rocked into her. She tried to steady her breathing, her teeth sinking firmly into her lower lip as she rode out the pain. When the pressure finally started to ease up she took a few moments before she started to move again.

"I was just leaving," she told him hoarsely avoiding eye contact, because she knew it would be moments until he called her on it. She clicked off her computer, her eyes connecting only briefly with his before she headed towards the locker room.

When she had made it out of his proximity she could breathe again. _What the hell?_ She didn't know what was going on but she had started to feel increasingly uneasy around him lately. She wasn't sure if it was the strain on his marriage or the intensity of their cases but things between them were way off.

They'd barely spoken - the conversation they'd just had was the longest they'd had in weeks. She knew he'd only started it out of principle so he could use it as an excuse to tell her indirectly that she needed to take care of herself.

He needed to change the damn record.

As she opened the locker in front of her, she moved forward to grab her jacket and a slice of pain shot across her lower back. It was a throbbing stab just off to her right side. She braced herself on the edge of the opened locker while the other hand moved to thumb into the sensitive knot that had twisted the moment she made contact with the pavement. She felt small bursts of release as she pressed into the spot but she didn't have the right angle, the right pressure - the right touch.

"Liv," that raspy whisper caused her eyes to snap open and her heart rate to jolt back into it's frenzy. She considered whipping around, confronting him, telling him to stop creeping up and scaring the crap out of her but instead she sunk her fingers into the metal of the locker and glared straight ahead.

"Elliot," she rasped and she hoped that the warning in her voice was enough for him to register that she just wanted to be alone. She didn't have the patience for this tonight. She wanted to pack up, go home and soak her muscles in a searing hot tub until the water turned cold.

She heard him step a little closer and a waft of his cologne tickled her nostrils. She exhaled heavily. He wasn't getting it and if she weren't so exhausted she would have told him exactly where to go.

"You should really get that checked out," his voice grated from behind and her eyes narrowed. If his intention was to rile her up, then he'd officially succeeded.

"Elliot," she rasped a second time, speaking through gritted teeth. "I'm _fine_," just as the words left her mouth she felt his hand slip below hers, curling around her ribcage, his thumb sliding underneath her hand.

A flood of chills exploded across her body and she immediately tried to move out of his touch, push him back, ask just what the hell he was doing but it was too late. The moment his thumb pressed firmly into the tightened knot of muscle the noise wretched achingly from her throat.

"Ungh," she called out, her head falling forward against the lip of the locker. He pressed harder and her twisted moan emitted a mixture of pain and relief that echoed into the metal confines of the locker. Her grip tightened on the locker edge and she bit firmly down on her lower lip to prevent further noises from escaping.

As the surge of relief pulsated across her lower back, he slowly released the pressure from his thumb and her eyes slipped open. She was breathing deeply, erratically and she knew his silence was a bid for permission. His hand still possessively latched onto her waist, it was just the pressure that he had relieved. When she didn't move, that appeared to be all the consent he required before he dug his thumb into the bundled muscle once more.

"Fu-" she gasped as the unexpected twinge made her back buck from his touch. She instinctively curled in an attempt to relieve the intense pressure and her shoulder blades rammed into his chest. She expected him to take a step back, create some space, but he went with her movements letting his chest support her back as he continued to thumb the knot_. _

As his thumb moved firmly over the tightened muscle, her focus drifted to the hard plains of his chest behind her coupled with small puffs of air that heated the side of her neck.

"Arch backwards," he directed and although his voice was monotone, instructional, there was a darkness that existed within it.

The same darkness she'd just seen in the bullpen.

"Elliot what-" her whisper was stifled when his free hand came up and slid possessively under her opposite arm. He cupped the juncture between her underarm and torso while she continued to grip onto the open locker. He bent her then, arching her further back into his chest and pressed his thumb harder into her lower back.

"Ugh," she called out as his thumb sunk deeper into a sweet spot and her body succumbed, an intense flood of relief swarming her lower back. She relaxed immediately, her head falling back and resting against his chest. She knew she shouldn't be rewarding him with such a response but it had been involuntary, even if she wanted to move she couldn't.

It felt too damn good.

His thumb was working the muscle sending ripples of pleasure down her back, across her pelvis, into the deepest part of her belly and she wanted to moan. She was well aware this was far from appropriate but the relief he was causing her right now trumped morality.

She tilted her head not realizing his proximity and when his chin swiped the crown of her head her breath lodged in her throat. She hadn't meant for it and as much as she wanted him to know that, it was redundant because her body language portrayed a blatant contradiction.

As he continued to rub the knot, it took everything in her only to allow weighted breaths to escape in lieu of moans. He thumbed the spot over and over as he slipped a little lower, his fingers skimmed her hip bone, sending a pang of pleasure pulsating deep into her belly. He shifted her just a little, her head tiling to the side and she felt his breath tickle the exposed skin of her neck and a chill ran up her spine. She shivered against him, feeling the goosebumps breakout across her flesh and her nipples reactively hardened. _Fuck._ She closed her eyes pleading he wouldn't notice but the cotton of her sweater was scarce and all he'd have to do is look down.

"I took a class in college," he whispered, his mouth so close to her ear and she knew what he was doing. He was trying to justify his actions, make this seem innocent but it was bullshit. None of this was innocent, none of this was acceptable and if his eyes dipped down to her chest, he would realize why. As she tried to control the moans that were now desperately yearning to escape she felt his lips brush lightly across her temple and the word ripped from her throat before she could stop it.

"Harder."

She felt him pause momentarily against her, before his thumb pressed even harder into her back. The yell wretched from her throat and she realized she got what she deserved because it was too hard. She didn't tell him to stop or ease up on the pressure because she wanted him to know she could take it.

His hand slipped suddenly and he was no longer pressing into the spot but she felt it, his course fingers lifting the hem of her sweater, sliding up her back. His bare palms connected with her bare flesh and if she weren't so damn responsive to his touch she would have stopped him. She felt his thumb hook back into position but he wasn't hitting the right spot.

"Higher," she said slowly, because despite how indecent the situation was, she was desperately craving the relief he had provided before.

He slipped his thumb higher and he was moving his free hand now, holding the front of her ribcage, walking her a little further towards the lockers. She felt him close in on the space behind her and she let him because his thumb was getting closer.

"Higher," she repeated and she felt his thumb slide ever so slightly higher while simultaneously sliding his hand up her ribs also. Her breath lodged in her throat and her eyes snapped open. Did she just feel that right? Did he just raise both hands when she told him to go higher? He still wasn't hitting the spot but the curiosity of his other hand was what propelled her to continue.

"Higher," the demand came out strained and she waited in avid curiosity as his thumb rose in conjunction with the other, sliding purposefully up her ribs until his forefinger bumped underwire.

A deep chill raced up her spine as she tried to steady herself against the lockers, the hand movement wasn't in her head. Nerves exploded through her body and she tried to differentiate the growing ache that still pulsated in her back and the one that had started between her legs.

"Higher?" he whispered into her neck and he was so freaking close that she couldn't breathe. She had registered the tone, he knew exactly what he was doing and the confidence in his voice was unsettling.

She realized what higher meant, she knew it meant his other hand would rise too and he would practically be cupping her breast. _Fuck_ she wanted him too, more than she wanted his thumb to relieve the ache in her back. Her nipples were painfully erect now and she knew she was accepting culpability when she said it.

"Higher."

Her heartbeat thumped violently against the base of his palm as the moments of silence ticked between them. The first thing she registered was the intense relief as his bare thumb slid high enough to apply pressure to the knot but it was the other hand that slid upwards that made her gasp. He cupped the underside of breast as he pushed hard into the deep pressure point. As the pleasure swarmed her back she jolted in reflex, arching her chest and his hand slipped higher, grasping the fullness of her breast. She felt her erect nipple grate across the rough pad of his palm before his hand slipped back downward, quickly retreating.

"Sorry," he murmured against her neck as if it had been an accident and her mind spun. _Sorry? He was fucking sorry?_ The fact that he was trying to blame it on an innocent hand slip was laughable, only there was no humor in this situation; no smile on her lips. She just wanted his hand higher again - and now.

_Fuck her back._

She was aching all over now, her breasts, her back, between her legs and she was slowly losing her sense of decency. It was moments before she moved backwards and it was intentional, unmistakable when she grazed her ass against the front of his jeans.

The grip on her ribs tightened and a heavy breath tickled the skin on her neck. She knew she had caught him off guard, that she shouldn't be doing this, but he started it and the longer he kept his hands on her, the less able minded she became.

"Liv," he grated and her eyes snapped open as she registered the warning. _Did she just hear that right? Was he really calling her on that?_ His voice had been low, rough and the air of caution imbedded in his tone hadn't escaped her. Her eyes narrowed in confusion, maybe she was misreading him, maybe it hadn't been a warning but when he sighed heavily into the back of her hair it became crystal clear.

He _was_ pissed withher.

"Harder," she fumed, ignoring the backtracking and a few moments of silence passed between them before he pressed firmly into her back. She used the opportunity to leverage the involuntary reflex and pushed her ass into his crotch. She felt it then, pure hardness as she let her backside sink against his erection. His fingers dug into her ribs and his other hand slid down to her hip and she couldn't mistake the growl that ripped deep from his throat.

"What are you doing?" he rasped and his nose was in her hair now. Her mouth parted in shock. After everything he had pulled tonight - he was calling _her_ on obstruction. He had to be _fucking_ kidding. The anger was mounting because she had wanted to ask that same damn question the moment he laid his hands on her.

Her body tensed, there was no mistaking the fact that she was pissed now. She tried to yank herself forward but he held her tight against his chest. It was when she heard the low chuckle reverberate in the small space between them that she narrowed her eyes. The son of a bitch was playing with her.

The strength in his arms was overwhelming but the fact that she had nowhere to go didn't scare her. As both hands wrapped further around her stomach she realized she'd never been this willingly confined but despite it all she tried to retain the anger. She let it fuel her because he didn't deserve what he seemed intent on taking.

"Screw you," she rasped and there was tension in her body as she feigned her need to escape. She struggled in his hold and he let her, just waiting her out as if it amused him. When her attempt to wretch forward was redundant she took a half step backward, trying to catch him off guard but it had been a mistake. The moment she took the step, her ass sunk squarely into his erection and her eyes slipped closed as she swallowed a moan. She felt his fingers tense against her waist and she had registered the catch in his throat loud and clear.

She was so _fucking_ turned on.

Her top that had ridden up from his hand up her back had lifted partly at the front also. He still clung to her as she twisted in his hold, his fingers biting into the bare skin of her waist. She couldn't believe what was happening, the man handling, the audacity - the sheer balls. The woman in her wanted to yell, tell him to let her the fuck go but that was the last thing she wanted.

Instead her struggle began to taper until she finally ceased all movements. When everything stilled her heartbeat thumped in languid bursts because she had no idea what to expect next. Their intermingled deep breaths were all she could hear and the solid mass of muscle flush against her back was all she could feel.

He continued to hold her with an overwhelming ownership that riled her up in ways she didn't want to acknowledge. A part of her wanted to sink back into his capture, let him do as he pleased yet the other wanted to jab her elbow clean into his ribs just to prove a point. As the silence drew on, she lost her battle against morality and slowly sunk into his hold.

She felt his response immediately, surprise mixed with an air of caution as if he wasn't sure he bought her submission but it wasn't long until she felt a hand begin to move, his fingers slipping below the material of her raised sweater. Her eyes were closed, her heartbeat was thumping and her whole body stilled against him as his hand slowly rose upward.

She knew there was no excuse for what he was about to do, there was no mistaking the intention as his hand slid higher. The anticipation mounted and her breath caught when his hand finally slipped over her, cupping the satin covered fullness. _Fuck_. She wanted to curse, she wanted to moan, she wanted to hum, but instead she rocked her ass squarely into his hardness in response.

He groaned into her hair at her compliance and slowly flicked his thumb back and forth over the pert nipple. She sunk further into his chest, arching her breast into his palm and she pulled her lower lip into her mouth and released it before she spoke.

"Harder," she hummed and she felt his thumb swipe earnestly over her nipple before he ceased it between his forefinger and thumb and tugged on it hard, exerting a moan from her lips and rush of liquid heat between her legs.

The hand that was still planted on her stomach, holding her in place, started to slip south and she swallowed. When his hand latched earnestly onto her belt her stomach dropped ten floors and her mouth ran dry. She felt him pull out the leather and he wasn't taking his time with this because she was practically giving herself to him, pushing back and grinding her ass against into the hardness that became more insistent against her.

He pulled her jeans open, unzipped her while his fingers pinched her tight nipple, twisting and tugging. She felt the pang between her legs and he wasn't waiting for permission, he was sliding his hand across the satin and cupping her mound, pulling her firmly back into his erection, groaning as his finger penetrated slightly into the wetness seeping through the material. She couldn't breathe, the room was spinning, her legs were like jelly and if it weren't for his strong hands she wouldn't be upright.

He ran his fingers across her panties, sliding against the dampness and her eyes drifted to a close when he used his knees to wedge her legs apart from behind. His hand moved again, higher until he was slipping into the waistband of her panties, sliding downward, two fingers trailing between the wetness making her whimper in pleasure. He dipped down further, only teasing her entrance, coating his fingers in her juices before he slid back up and rubbed over her clit.

"Unh," she called out and her moans became far breathier than before. He dipped lower, careful not to penetrate and she was slowly starting to lose oxygen.

"Lower Liv?" he whispered and she could feel the joy he was having with her and knew he was going to make her say it. "Lower?" he repeated and _fuck it_ she didn't care if it meant he'd be inside her.

"Yes," she groaned, sinking back against him, relying on the brunt of his body to keep her upright. His hand slid down lower and she felt him slide a finger inside and her moan became masked by his groan. He wedged her knees further apart and before she knew it, he had pushed deep inside her.

"Fuck," she cursed and he wasted no time sliding in a second, pushing between the tight slickness between her legs. She spread her legs as far as her tight jeans would accommodate and the pressure of the top of his palm dug hard against her clit.

She rolled her head against metal as she rocked against his hand and the moans were coming out in heated breaths. She knew she must be dripping against his palm but her inhibitions took a back seat as her hips rocked insistently against his hand.

"Harder?" he questioned and she groaned her response, pushing her ass back into his cock and her hands were moving now, seeking, trying to get behind her to touch him. He was too quick, moving his free hand to grasp hers, slamming it hard up against the lockers. He held her hand firmly against the metal as he thrust his fingers deep inside her, bending her slightly so the angle rocked hard against her clit.

"Unnnhh," she grated out and she could feel him rocking his erection up against her ass and all she wanted in the world was to feel it inside her. He pushed into her as his fingers thrust in and out, still unwilling to free her palm from the lockers. She was breathing in small increments as she felt the pleasure start to mount.

She was close.

His lips brushed the skin of her neck before they skimmed the shell of her ear and the throatiness of his voice pulsated right between her legs.

"Fuck Liv," he whispered into her neck and she picked up on the emotion, this disbelief that this was actually happening. The use of her nickname became an overwhelming comfort to her, a far cry from the dark stranger Elliot had become tonight. His nose brushed across her locks before his mouth descended to the ridge of her shoulder.

He was still sliding his fingers deep inside her when he sunk his teeth firmly into her shoulder. She bucked, slamming her ass into his erection before he pushed her forward, practically ramming her into the open locker. She groaned as the brunt of his palm bumped firmly against her clit, the sound reverberating through the metal in front of her. The combination of his thick fingers inside her and the pressure against her clit made her lose it.

Her muscles contracted and the orgasm ripped aching through her larynx. The hand holding hers against the locker moved quickly, covering her mouth, muffling her scream. Her walls contracted around his thick fingers and the pleasure exploded across her lower belly, the after effects of the orgasm pulsating around his fingers.

She was breathing heavily against her covered mouth when she started to feel his fingers scrape softly across her full lips, touching, feeling. They parted automatically, as if second nature and it was instinctual when she moved forward, closing her mouth over his forefinger. She dragged her lips down his finger, coating it in saliva, trailing her tongue over the extent and she heard the groan reverberate in her ears. He dragged his finger over her lower lip and her mouth parted further.

"Liv," he grated in her ear and she heard the weakness, the desperation but he didn't have to say it. She could feel the need pressing up against her ass, it had been clear from the moment he had touched her and she knew that need extended much further than tonight. There was no promise, no verbal confirmation but she knew tonight wasn't on a whim, or a drunken mistake. They were finally crossing that line, alleviating the ache that had pulsed between them for far too long.

As her teeth scraped down his forefinger she felt him shiver against her, his head bowed downward until his mouth pressed firmly against her shoulder. He hummed against her skin and the vibrations scattered tiny goosebumps across her body as she waited him out.

"Turn around," he murmured and the roughness of his command pulsated right between her legs, contracting around his fingers still inside her. The nerves were overwhelming and the flush of heat that ran up her neck was now seeping into her cheeks. Turning around would mean she'd have to face him, face what they'd done. He'd see the truth, the desire, the emotion, the feelings. She knew she wouldn't be able to hide a thing from him, not after that.

When she didn't move she felt him shift slightly against her, his erection scraping against her ass as if to reiterate his urgency and she closed her eyes, a soft moan leaving her lips. When his fingers twitched suddenly inside her she bit down on her lower lip, masking the sensitive ripple of her post orgasm.

"Turn around," he repeated and the patience in his voice boarded on nonexistent. A deep chill raced up her spine at the thought of what he would do if she denied him. She felt movement then, his fingers slowly retreating and she braced herself against the lockers, squinting as he pulled his fingers from the tight vise they'd become accustomed too. The chill of night air hit her between the legs as his moist fingers left her panties and she stared straight a head, her heartbeat thumping in her ears.

"Now Olivia," he whispered in her hair and her hand slipped suddenly off the metal from the slick perspiration under her palm. She wanted to turn around but, _fuck_, she was frozen by the chill of his command, his voice, his dominance. The hand that had covered her mouth slid possessively down her jaw line to the column of her throat and she swallowed against his palm. He came in closer, his lips dancing across her locks until they stopped behind her ear.

"Turn around and kiss me."

Her heart literally skipped a beat and the breath she had just taken lodged in her throat. It hit her then, he'd just made her come and they hadn't even kissed yet.

She felt his erection, his warm heated breath and the possessive hold he had on her throat that was now trailing down to her collarbones, his fingers skimming her necklaces.

She didn't know why the thought of kissing him petrified her but it overtook her body. He already had his fingers, deep inside her, bringing her to a mind-blowing orgasm yet the prospect of his mouth on hers, his tongue driving between her lips, swiping across hers, sent her heart rate soaring.

His body crowded her physically which didn't make it easy but she mustered the control and started to turn determinedly, his hand dropping from her chest.

The moment her eyes connect with blue she saw the flush of heat in his cheeks and knew it would be mirroring the warmth in hers. She did her best not to waver, not to swallow, not to cower, instead she looked him square in the eyes, almost like she was angry at him for this. She watched his eyes narrow for a split second, as if he were suddenly second guessing himself but it wasn't long until her eyes dipped determinedly down to his lips.

She felt the tension hum between them like electricity and the stillness that existed between them became a tangible mass. She couldn't move, couldn't flex her fingers, even her stare was transfixed wholly on his mouth. The halogens that blinked above them stung her eyes, made them water, and when she finally allowed herself to blink against the light, black spots marked her vision.

His mouth parted in front of her and he took a breath, her stomach spiraled at the thought that things were about to change. This kiss wouldn't be something she could expel from her mind, it wouldn't be something she could bury or chalk down to the heat of the moment. It would become a permanent milestone, categorized in her memory, shelved right beside the embrace in the maternity ward and the look of mutual devastation in the warehouse.

_Kiss me._

She hated him for making her do this, for being the one to take that step. The command echoed through her mind and her stomach flipped with anxiety.

He wasn't rushing her or urging her, even after 12 years of foreplay he was still giving her an out. The man had the patience of a saint she decided because he had just provided her with undeniable relief south of the boarder and there he stood, his body still ablaze, looking as if he would wait another 12 years.

With that confirmation alone she gathered the strength to step forward, no longer faltering. Her eyes slipped up to his and she registered his surprise at her new found confidence. As her hand came out and smoothed over the lapel of his jacket, she stared solemnly into his eyes as her fingers curled around the lapel.

She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed back the anticipation and she tugged him closer, removing the step between them. She ran her free hand behind his neck and let her fingers drive through his cropped hair as she tilted his mouth down to hers. She leaned up, brushing her lips across his at a devastatingly slow place and all she could hear was her heartbeat thumping in her ears.

His mouth parted against hers and, _fuck_, she wanted to take this slow, she really did but she could feel the heat of his breath on her lips and damn it, they'd waited far too long. As his mouth hovered against hers, it was her own impatience that propelled her forward, latching earnestly onto his lower lip. He groaned as she pulled it into her mouth and sucked, moving her body in closer. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and her breasts pushing up against his chest as she drew him in.

She released his lower lip and moved in, closing her mouth firmly over his, moaning at the sensation of finally feeling those damn lips between hers. The ones that had spouted anger, abuse, comfort and love were now finally wedged between hers. She tilted her head to the side, sliding her tongue determinedly into his mouth and it was milliseconds before the growl retched from his throat and his body launched forward.

She felt the metal slam into her back, the cradle of his hand behind her head and his erection insistent on her thigh sending a pang of anticipation into her core. She closed her mouth over his still trying to retain the power but he fought her for it, tilting his head and wedging her mouth open with his, sliding his tongue between her lips. She groaned, her short nails sinking into the back of his neck as his tongue swiped roughly across hers.

"Unh," she whimpered into his mouth, the noise getting muffled and she dragged one hand down his chest and wedged it between their lower bodies until her hand smoothed over the front of his slacks. They both groaned simultaneously as she rubbed his erection through his work pants and he sunk his teeth into her lower lip. She grasped his belt then, and tried to tug it open in the small space provided but his whole body was trapping her against metal.

His mouth was sill relentless on hers as she unzipped him and just as she lowered the zip he slid his tongue between her lips. She wedged her hands determinedly down his jocks and her fingers curled around his shaft. A groan vibrated against her mouth and her mind spiraled when she started to rub the length of him, suddenly struggling for oxygen. She breathed the air from his mouth as she tugged him repetitively before smoothing her thumb over the tip.

He tore his mouth away from hers with a groan, and her lungs filled with much needed oxygen she'd forgone. She could feel traces of pre cum on her fingers and she wanted to moan. When she tugged him once more the added lubrication produced a groan as he rocked himself into her hand. His breathing was furious as his lips crashed against her temple, one hand bracing himself up against the metal, the other still supporting the back of her neck.

He was rocking earnestly into her fist now, pushing himself into her lower half and she could hear the metal rattling behind her with each thrust. Her mouth ran dry at the thought of him wrenching her jeans down, hoisting her up against metal and doing her hard up against these lockers.

"Fuck Olivia," he rasped in her ear and she couldn't breathe because that was all she wanted. To fuck, to be fucked, to finally channel all their heartache, all the bullshit, all the emotion, all the anger and all the devastation into one definitive, intimate, mind-blowing moment.

She wasn't a reckless person - this wasn't her, but he incited this need inside well before tonight and it had only been a matter of time before she broke. Now the only thing that mattered was _this, _right here, right now - and anything before tonight was a past life to her.

"El now," she whispered because he was hard as a fucking rock and she didn't want him to come in her hand. His lips skimmed her temple, she felt his fingertips press into her scalp and when he breathed against her there was desperation in his exhale.

"No," he mumbled against her temple and the response was a sharp jab in her chest. Her eyes narrowed, her hand stilled and her eyes watered against the halogens because fuck he couldn't do this to her now. She couldn't deal with rejection, his regret, his remorse, his sudden attack of _fucking_ morality because they were in this together and there was no turning back.

Her instinctual response was to go with anger but her body was weak, still at his mercy, so instead she choose denial – sliding her hand from his pants, grasping the lip of his slacks and tugging them downward. She got them halfway down his ass when he clutched her wrists, drawing them off from his pants. She moaned her disapproval, trying to recoil from his capture and cease back ownership but he was strong and it was a futile war she would never win. He humored her struggle, let her feel like she might have had a chance but it wasn't long before his patience wore thin and he lifted her wrists shoulder height, pinning her against the locker, his chest stiflingly hers.

"Stop," Elliot breathed into her neck and the fact that he was trying to stop this, _end_ _this,_ made her yank harder at the hold he had on her wrists, seething inside at his audacity. She thought he had some nerve to do this to her and the words rung in her ears before they ripped achingly from her mouth.

"Screw you," she rasped and his neck was close enough that the words expelled onto his skin. The glare from the lights above was a cruel sting which she attributed to her watering eyes – _not_ from being overwrought by emotion.

It was moments, seconds before his lower half moved in and let his firm cock nestle against her thigh. _Son of a bitch. _She whispered or maybe the words never left her mouth but she hated him for his mixed message bullshit. Her pants were still open, as were his, and the contact was a reminder that both their bodies were still on fire. She waited on his next move because it was all she could do and it was moments before his lips skimmed her temple and his weakened voice whispered.

"Not here." Half of her was relieved that he still intended to finish what he'd started, but the other half had been stripped completely of her patience.

"Yes here," she seethed because _damn it_ there was no _fucking_ way she could survive a drive home right now. She tried to tug her hands from his hold but he had her tight, so she rocked her hip firmly into his erection emitting a stifled moan from his part. She wasn't going to beg she told herself, she'd weaken him, soften him but she wouldn't beg.

She let her body relax in his hold, no longer fighting him and it wasn't long before she tilted her head until they were cheek to cheek. She felt his fingers twitch against her pulse point and she took a deep breath. As her lungs filled, her chest expanded underneath his capture and she could tell he was holding his.

"Elliot," she whispered and she'd just broken her own rule because the way she had said his name might as well have been through clasped hands on her knees.

She could feel him considering her, debating in his mind but she was done analyzing this. She let her lips scrape down the ridge of his jaw line until they bumped the base of his ear.

"Please," she whispered because fuck it, she didn't care if it made her look desperate, weak, or pathetic. Her need for him started a lifetime ago but her control over it had only just shattered tonight – after _he_ touched her, after_ he _pushed her, after _he _broke her.

As his breath heated her neck she could feel the pylons start to shift and it was moments before his internal debate came full circle. His fingers were the first thing she felt as he slowly released her wrists, then it was her chest as he relinquished the weight off hers and she was able to fill her lungs with a deep breath. It was when he stepped back and his lower half left hers that she waited on bated breath for him to drop his pants - or hers - or both.

Without warning she felt his hand slip into hers and her heartbeat was a solid thump when she felt their fingers intertwine. She was blindsided by his motions and the confusion in her face must have been evident because his eyes were tracing the intricacies of her reaction, gauging them.

She was about to question him when he tugged on her hand and suddenly he was leading her, his hand gripping tighter as he walked her towards the door. She had no time to react, no time to rebut because he was pushing open the door with the slap of his palm and yanking her through. When he crossed the hallway her confusion dissipated when she caught the entrance to the cribs. He released her hand, grasped her shoulders and walked her through the darkened threshold.

When the metal clicked behind her she was enveloped in complete darkness. She wanted to move, take a few steps forward but she couldn't see a thing in front of her and became frozen in place. He wasn't turning on the light and a strange feeling passed over her that maybe he wasn't even on this side of the door.

When she moved her hands behind her she expected to come in contact with his body but she only swiped air. Her heartbeat thumped wildly against her ribcage as she blinked against the darkness, willing her eyes to adjust to the light.

"Elliot?" she whispered and predictably all she was met with was her own unanswered question. She turned around then, to where she assumed he must be standing. She couldn't see a thing in front of her and extended her hands, slowly swiping air as she stepped forward.

She continued the motion, certain she could sense him in front of her until she felt her hands make contact with the solid wood of the door. She took a few moments to compose herself until she sidestepped to the right – feeling, searching until she found what she was looking for. As her fingers glided across the raised knob of the light switch a raspy voice from behind made her jump.

"Don't."

She broke out into goosebumps at his command and her fingers hovered over the light switch, sending her mind into a spin. A part of her wanted to leave the lights off and walk towards that voice that she was pretty certain came from her left, the other part wanted to turn it on just to see what he would do.

Her hand lingered on the switch and she heard him exhale into the darkness and she used that moment to drop her hand away and follow the sound. She walked towards where she thought he was standing and extended her hands again, swiping in front of her, determined to find the son of a bitch.

When she came in contact with the metal bunk, the thump against her forehead was firm enough to rattle her and she moaned, grasping her forehead, stifling the pain. She continued to rub the spot where her forehead connected and she heard a quiet chuckle coming from behind her. She swung around on the spot, clutching the bed pole to retain her bearings.

"Damn it Elliot, this isn't a game," she rasped and her tone was blunt, firm and pissed off. She was done with the taunting, done with his games, and if he didn't show himself right now she was done with him.

"You don't think I know that?" he whispered and her eyes narrowed when she picked up on the tone he'd used as if he were just as frustrated as she was. She could feel him getting closer, footsteps impending and a shiver ran up her spine at the idea that he seemed to be able to see her, but that she couldn't see him. She instinctively dodged the approaching presence and stepped off to the side, feeling her way into more darkness.

She heard his footsteps stop a few paces away from her.

"I'm giving you a chance to think Olivia," he whispered and she narrowed her eyes. She wanted to tell him that there was nothing to think about but she remained silent. She knew what he was doing, he was giving her an out. An opportunity to think without being blindsided by his hands, his body, his erection pressing into her, but she hated him for it because it now meant that she'd be just as accountable for their actions tonight. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to construct her response and a few beats of silence passed between the darkness before he spoke again.

"You were supposed to tell me to stop," he told her quietly and she heard the pain, the confliction and the underlying desire that was still evident, but it was his words - his admission that made her insides boil and her eyes narrow in the direction of his voice.

"What the hell Elliot?" The words came out in a fiery blaze, mirroring the rage that was burning inside her. The son of a bitch was damn lucky she couldn't see him right now. When he didn't answer she shook her head, a smile of disbelief playing on her lips. "I don't believe you," she whispered, emitting a small laugh that bared no humor "So what was this? A god damned test for you?" her voice rose slightly.

He remained silent and the fury racing through her veins right now took over, she wanted to slug the son of a bitch. Her eyes were welling up again and she swallowed back the impending tears because this couldn't be true, this couldn't be happening, surely she was misreading things but his silence only indicated otherwise.

"What did you think?" her voice shook now, the emotion seeping stubbornly into her words. "That you'd just try your hand at it? See how I reacted?" she yelled, her voice cracking as she stalked further into darkness. "Well _fuck_ - you."

She felt a hand suddenly grasp her upper arm and she recoiled immediately, her forearm shooting out and knocking him firmly in the chin. She hadn't meant to connect with his face, just his body but the darkness had thrown her and her bearings were shot to hell. She heard the crack of his jaw and the noise that ripped from the impact but he still hadn't let her arm go. Her mouth parted, an apology perched on the tip of her tongue but before it had a chance to come out he had grabbed her other arm and rammed her backwards until her back connected with bricks.

He hadn't slammed her but he hadn't softened the blow either and her head connected firmly with the wall as he closed in on her. He grasped her wrists and held them shoulder height, his body moving in, his chest pressing her firmly against the wall, stifling all the air completely out of her lungs.

"I don't do things on a whim Olivia," he whispered against her temple, fury lining his words as she swallowed back the nerves. "I don't fuck up my partnership, my friendship, _my god damn marriage_ for a quick fuck up against a locker," he rasped and the words slammed into her like a freight train. His anger was palpable, tangible and she could feel it radiating out of his fingers as he held her tight. She tried to catch her breath, calm her nerves because he was scaring her, the darkness, the blow to his chin, their argument all escalating.

"But damn it," he squeezed his grip on her wrists when he said it, "I didn't think you'd be so responsive."

Her eyes widened. She couldn't believe what he'd just said, his words knocked the wind out of her and she narrowed her eyes, furious. _ Bull – fucking – shit_ he didn't think past her rejection. He knew _exactly_ what it would do to her, she was strong but she wasn't that strong.

"If this is some kind of morality check Elliot," she whispered through gritted teeth, "then you need to get your _damn_ hands off me," she seethed. Her heartbeat thumped wildly against his and she didn't bother with a futile struggle, her whole body simply remained stiff as a board and she reeled over the way he was yet again trapping her.

His head bowed forward suddenly and his mouth dipped down to the base of her ear catching her off guard.

"I know what I want Olivia," he rasped into her ear and she struggled to breathe. "I've known for twelve _fucking_ years." Her mind spun as the admission sunk in and she tried to hold onto the anger, the rage so she didn't have to face what he'd just confessed to her. His fingers flexed against her wrists and she braced herself as his mouth bowed down to her ear once more. "It's not knowing what _you_ want that scares the hell out of me," he finished off in a whisper but all she heard now was _twelve fucking years. _

Her mind spun, she wanted to be angry, she wanted to hate him but all she felt was heat and lust and she was slowly succumbing, he was wearing her down.

"I made it pretty damn clear what I wanted Elliot," she seethed, making a point to use past tense because after the shit he'd pulled tonight he didn't deserve it that easy.

"Yeah," he breathed out, the response tickling her neck and suddenly his leg was wedging hers apart, the top of his thigh pushing up against her core. She gasped before she could stop herself and his mouth skimmed the column of her neck. "And what about tomorrow? You still gonna want it?" His voice was choked full of cocky innuendo and the anger was still there, still coursing through her veins but the addition of his thigh between her legs made it taper considerably.

She hated herself for it, she was so much better than this but fuck, he wasn't playing fair and despite the innuendo, she knew his words stretched much further. He needed reiteration, confirmation that she wasn't going to run, that this wasn't going to ruin them. She sucked in a breath, her body a fiery blaze now yet somehow she located her voice.

"You think I'd risk everything for one night Elliot?" She desperately wanted to relax, let her head fall lazily back against the wall, allude complacency but her body remained completely rigid against his capture.

"You know me better than that."

The words had been in her head but they came out in a whisper and she felt his reaction to what she confessed immediately. He knew now that she wanted this, tonight - tomorrow, for as long as they both deemed possible. She exhaled heavily, the relief of her confession overwhelming her senses and despite the unyielding hold he had on her she felt the last remnants of her anger dissipate.

He moved his head from it's position near her ear until his forehead connected softly with hers and she stilled. His breath heated her face and she felt his fingers relax only slightly against her wrists as if he were still cautious of what would happen if he released her.

His mouth parted and she could feel it, he wanted to say something to her, something she didn't think she was ready to hear just yet and so she moved, tilting her head until her lips sought out his in the dark and she pressed them firmly against his. She grasped his lips within hers and held them there until he finally pulled back.

She could still feel the uncertainty, the question, the admission that he desperately wanted to voice but she didn't want words. She leaned forward again, this time capturing his lower lip between her teeth before releasing it and his fingers weakened a little more against her wrists. He moved forward, his forehead pressing against hers and a noise of pained restraint left his throat. She smiled internally because she knew he was slowly succumbing and when she rocked herself firmly against his upper thigh that was the last straw.

His lips moved down, slipping onto her neck and like a switch had been flicked he kissed her hard. She melted into it immediately, her nipples turning to granite as he nipped and sucked on her neck. She tugged softly at her hands that were still pinned to the wall but he wasn't letting up.

"El let me go," she whispered and his mouth stilled on her neck. He loosened his hold and let her slide her wrists out of his capture, leaving his palms flush against the wall as he moved in and kissed her flush on the mouth. She let her free palms come up and smooth up his chest as he parted her lips with his. Her fingers found the knot in his tie and she slowly started to pull it open, the brisk sound of the material slipping filling the room.

She opened the floodgates with his tie because before it even hit the ground his hands were grasping her open jeans, his thumbs hooking in and dragging them down her hips. The night air tickled her thighs, then her calves and when the denim reached her ankles she grasped onto the ridge of his shoulder as he bent down to pull off her shoes and her jeans in one go.

As he moved up, she reached forward pulling haphazardly at his shirt. She got it out of his pants but that was as far as she got before his fingers curled under the hem of her sweater and he yanked it up her body. Her hands had no choice but to rise from his motion and before she knew it the night air hit her stomach, the tops of her breasts, the sweater ruffling her hair before he tossed it to the ground.

Despite the darkness she was nervous, modest and it shocked her when his hands came out and grasped both her upper arms, walking her backwards until the cold bricks became a sharp chill against her exposed back. She gasped at the sensation, trying to arch against the coldness but he had her flush up against the wall. She felt a hand move off the hold he had on her upper arm until he was cupping her breast. She swallowed as he squeezed the fullness and her breathing increased as he flicked his thumb across the pert nipple.

_Jesus._

The same hand slipped up and ran over her collarbone, to her shoulder and dragged her bra strap down. He was impatient, his fingers sliding into the gap where her breasts met and tugging. She moaned her disapproval as he tried to rip at her underwear like a caveman and grasped his arm. Her mouth parted, intent on telling him to relax - take a breath, when his lips dipped down and rasped in her ear.

"Turn around."

The chills exploded now, across her exposed skin, tightening her nipples, and reverberating between her legs. She let go of his hand and slowly started to turn and his fingers were on the clasp immediately. He was stealth like, snapping it apart in one quick motion and sliding the straps down her arms. As the bra dropped to the ground, he had removed it with such urgency that she expected to feel his hands on her breasts.

Instead she jolted in surprise when his fingers slid into the waistband of her panties, yanking them down her thighs. The night air hit the pool between her legs that had long since cooled from her orgasm and she stepped out of her underwear. She wondered if this was it, if he would lower his pants and she'd become intimate with the wall as he fucked her up against it.

He surprised her again when he pulled her whole body flush up against his, wrapping his hands tightly around her stomach, making her mind spin. She sunk back into him and was thrown by the way he managed to get her completely naked while he remained fully clothed.

His mouth latched onto the back of his neck as his hands started to roam and before she knew it, he was cupping her bare breasts and she was biting back a moan.

"Mmmhmm," he groaned into the back of her hair as his fingers curled over her mounds, his thumbs swiping lazily over the peaks causing her body to buck against him. He let his forefingers and thumbs clamp down on both nipples, pinching firmly and it hit her excruciatingly hard between the legs, her bare ass sinking back into his erection.

He moaned then and immediately one hand left her breast, sliding over her stomach and between her legs and she groaned as he slid two fingers between her folds, over her clit and rubbed her repetitively, pinching her nipple in his grasp. She crashed against him writhing when he didn't ease up on either part of her.

"Fuck," she cursed breathless, grasping his wrist between her legs because it was sensitive and her whole body was tingling from the sensation. She tried to yank him off and succeeded, turning immediately to face him. He walked her backwards, the cold bricks slapping her bare ass and his breath was on her face when he said it.

"Lie down."

"No," she refused immediately because she had made a habit of if tonight and was done with his alpha B.S. She didn't want the comfort of a cot right now, she wanted to be taken, if not against the lockers, then against this wall – and damn it she was done waiting.

"Your pants," she told him throatily, "take them off." Her voice was low and controlled, contradicting the whirlwind of impatience that swarmed inside her. She barely gave him a second to honor her request before her she reached forward, grasping his open slacks, jocks included and tugged them down. She heard the satisfying sound of his pants hitting the ground and wasted no time reaching for his shirt. She began to unbutton it from the bottom as he toed off his shoes and pants and she could feel him staring at her through the darkness. An overwhelming sensation washed over her like it was the calm before the storm.

When she got his shirt open she reached up on her tiptoes, slipping it off his shoulders, down his arms and when the cuffs got caught on his hands she gave them one firm wretch. The moment his hands were free he grabbed her wrists and pinned her square against the wall again. Her breath left her the moment his naked chest was flush up against her breasts and she exhaled into his neck. He held her still, pulling slightly back and skimming the hard plains of his chest over her pert nipples, teasing them. She arched her chest into him, reveling in the way his muscles were toying with her sensitized nipples.

He moved his lower half in further then and his erection pressed into her bare thigh. "Unh," the noise escaped her, he was so close, all he'd have to do is move half an inch to the left and he'd be between her legs.

"Lie down," he repeated as if he'd just been waiting to say it and she seethed at his innate compulsion to lead this. It was fitting - they couldn't agree in life so why should sex be any different? But she was sick of him fighting her, sick of his continuous upper hand and on this she wasn't backing down.

"No," she said firmly. "Here," she whispered, "now."

She knew this wasn't how he'd pictured it, she knew why he brought her in here away from the bright lights and tawdriness of the locker room. He wanted a bed, or at the least a cot but it had been _twelve fucking years_ and there would be all the time in the world for comfort, for exploration, for admissions.

She _needed_ this, she'd made it pretty damn clear what she wanted and they way her gritted breaths were coming out now should be warning enough. A few moments passed between them and she finally felt him registering, accepting - succumbing.

His mouth skimmed the softness of her cheek as he wedged her legs apart with his knee, a soft moan escaping from her at his sudden compliance. He let a hand run down the smooth skin of her arm until it slid deliberately across her thigh. His fingers curled underneath as he raised her leg up pushing himself intimately between her legs. Her head lolled back on the wall, he still had one wrist pinned and she could feel the hardness of his cock as it pushed into her pelvis. The cool night air hit the dampness between her legs and she wrapped her free arm around his neck, drawing her body closer in preparation.

He let his hands smooth lazily up the back of her thigh until he reached the curve of her ass, wedging his other leg between hers. He finally released her trapped hand, and grasped her other hip and suddenly he was lifting her off the ground. When she wrapped both legs around his waist and her other hand around his neck her breath caught she felt his cock flush up against her core. He groaned into his neck and she whimpered as his cock prodded at her entrance. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she rocked earnestly forward, encouraging him to penetrate but he held her at bay. He breathed into her neck, his mouth sweeping across her cheek and she felt the tension of the moment as his lips reached her ear.

"Liv," he whispered as his tip nudged at her entrance and her mind spun, her heart thumping a mile. She tried to play it off like they were just fucking this out but she was kidding herself. Her eyes began to water as his breath warmed her neck and she couldn't blame it on the halogens this time.

"Tell me you know," he said quietly and she blinked back the moisture in her eyes because she knew, she'd always known and they didn't need to voice what had been unspoken for years. Those three words would be one of the many confessions she would make to him in the future.

She smoothed her mouth across his as her eyes continued to dampen and for the first time tonight she was thankful they were in complete darkness.

"I know," she told him quietly, pressing her lips gently against his before they broke away. She braced herself as he grasped her hips, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive crux as he nudged his cock forward. Her cheek hovered next to his and her heartbeat slammed furiously against his chest. The roughness of brick against her back made her legs part further in anticipation because she wanted to feel it all, his cock, his body, the ruthless chafe against the softness of her skin. She wanted marks, reminders, proof that this was actually happening and not just a mind numbingly erotic dream. His tip nudged her dripping entrance once more and her mouth parted, a soft plea escaping her lips.

She could tell he was holding off, holding out - just another example of the _fucking_ power play he seemed intent on riding out tonight. Well screw that, he was kidding himself if he thought he was in control here. She rocked her hips determinedly forward and the breath he had been holding expelled into her neck as his tip penetrated involuntarily.

"Angh," his mouth bumped her cheek and she could tell he hadn't expected that and it was taking everything in him not to just drive _fucking_ forward now. His vocal response made her sink further into the wall and let his able arms bare the brunt of her weight.

She felt his thumbs, his fingers digging furiously into her hips, keeping her upright and she knew she would be bruised tomorrow, but it would be more proof. When his tip slid upward and dragged across her clit, once- twice, she crumbled.

"Unh El.. please," she whispered, writhing in desperation now, urging him to dip lower, trying to hoist her body upward, tightening her legs around his waist, attempting to get him to sink into her. Noises of desperation came out in small bursts now, she moaned, arched, sunk short fingernails into the skin, sinking, dragging, tearing. If his intention was to break her then he was _fucking _succeeding because she was moments - seconds from losing complete and utter control.

"Damn it Elliot-,"

The rasp of her words were lost when he slammed his hips forward, driving into her entrance without preamble. A noise wretched from the back of his throat, their simultaneous groans reverberating against the brick wall. Her head fell back on it's own accord and she arched into him as he filled her. All the air in her lungs was forced out of her body and every inch of her back was stifled against brick as their hips connected. They stayed like that, holding, grasping, breathing as her body had no option but to adjust to his size, his width, his brunt. She still couldn't breathe but the sensation of him filling her, stretching her was a worthy trade. She was tight, she could feel the pressure of her walls clamping around him and it had been far too long. She would be sore tomorrow but she craved it, more proof that he was here.

His chest lifted off hers as she felt him pull back, her lungs screamed for oxygen but the moment she inhaled he slammed back into her and the breath she was taking expelled immediately. _Fuck. _He groaned into her neck and her body tingled over the way his cock filled every _fucking_ inch of her. She felt him pull back once more and she had learned – taking small quick breaths before his lower half slammed back into hers. She groaned at the contact, but could tell he was trying to ease her into this - go slow, allow her time to adjust to the size, the angle, the wall but fuck the last thing she needed was his patience.

"Harder," her throaty voice was a whisper in his ear because she wanted him to know she was ready, she could take him. She'd always been able to take him.

He surged forward then, slamming her ass into the bricks filling her to the brim, their hips connecting once more and she called out. _Fuck_. She didn't have to ask him twice. Her heart was a frantic thump in her chest as she tired to catch her breath. He thrust forward again, and again, starting a firm, meticulous rhythm between her legs that mirrored the short sharp breaths she was taking. _Fuck yes. _Her eyes closed against the darkness and she met his motions, tightening her arms around his neck and rocking her lower half eagerly into his. He was responsive as hell, grinding into her, deeply, repetitively and she was less able to think, breathe or comprehend with each thrust.

Her nails dug deeper into the back of his neck and his mouth dipped forward closing over hers, plunging his tongue deep between her lips, swiping furiously across hers and she groaned - breathless, stifled, gasping. Her teeth clamped down on his lower lip immediately and she was too rough, but she couldn't breathe, she needed air and she wouldn't ask for it. He yanked back, a pained noise vibrating against her mouth but all she could think was she could breathe again.

There was guilt but she felt his revenge between her legs as his hips became more and more urgent. She licked her lips and suddenly she could taste blood. The guilt trumped her pride and she leaned him, capturing his lip softly, soothing where she'd bitten, sliding her tongue across the ache. He groaned into her mouth, a hand on one of her hips sliding up her torso until the rough pad of his thumb scraped across her erect nipple. Her moan echoed into his open mouth and she arched into him, her lips ripping from hers, her head falling back as he closed his forefinger and thumb over the nub.

She swallowed because she could feel it, the revenge wasn't between her legs, it was this. He pinched her firmly, pulling on her nipple, thumbing it before he tugged it hard. She called out, her lower half bucking into his, her mind spinning at how the hell he was still holding her up with one hand right now. He was rough on her breast, palming it, kneading it with intensity and the pleasure shot right between her legs. _Fuck._

She wanted to come.

His hand skimmed back down to her hip and she felt the support return as he rocked himself firmly against the wall and the heat and pleasure continued to build.

_Faster. _She thought and he was a god-dammed mind reader because he was quickening the pace, his thrusts becoming more and more urgent. Her moans were morphing into high-pitched gasps now and she couldn't hide how fucking close she was. He rocked determinedly into her, hitting the right angle, her tailbone against brick, her head against the wall. Her fingers were clinging onto the slickness of his neck and she felt the perspiration from their bodies intermingling into a scent of their own. This room was going to smell of sex, her body would ache from it and her mind will never recover from it.

She wanted light now, she wanted to look him in the eyes, see blue, read him, feel him but instead she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, drawing him closer. Their chests were flush up against each other now, heartbeats uniting. His lips sunk into her neck in response, pressing firmly against her skin. She felt the dripping heat between their legs, the slick sounds of him fucking her filled her ears.

She was wet as all hell and he was hard as fuck and she was so achingly tight around him. She was going to come, her high-pitched moans were now turning into whimpers and she hated how weak she felt against him in this moment. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip but it didn't mask her verbal response to the pleasure resounding in her core.

"Come for me Liv," he whispered into her neck and his words were a throb between her legs because he knows, _he fucking knows_ her bodily responses when they should feel foreign.

"Ungh," she cried out, because she couldn't hold on anymore and he seemed to have the restraint of a saint.

His hips slammed her firmly into the wall, her ass slapping against brick, his cock sliding so deep and when he knocked her clit, her muscles contracted, the animalistic noise ripping from her throat. He didn't muffle her this time, he let the cry bounce off all four walls and she didn't hold back. She clenched achingly around him, her whole body trembling, bucking, arching into the earth shattering orgasm.

He growled into her neck and let her body ride out her orgasm before he thrust, deep and hard and she could tell - he was done holding back. His moans were getting higher and louder, collating on top of one another. His fingers bit into her hips and she felt his whole body buck against her, jerking forward, slamming her into brick as he tensed against her, before spilling inside her. The cry echoed through her eardrums before he expelled a heavy breath into her neck.

He held her there, as the sound of their wretched breathing filled the room. She felt her walls still contracting around him as his body responded achingly to her tremors. She was utterly spent and as her breaths slowly started to return to a quiet gasps she felt reality surface for the first time. A deep tingling ache between her legs, the irritated skin on her back, her bruised lips and her sensitized nipples. What started with a sharp pinch in her lower back was now a full body ache but it didn't matter. None of it mattered, the only thing that mattered was this, him - _them_.

She closed her eyes against the darkness, dropping her mouth down, pressing it against the firm ridge of his shoulder. She felt his lips smooth across her neck until they pressed down, kissing the slick column on her throat, exhaling into her hair. She shivered in response, opening her mouth to the salty expanse of his shoulder and she could taste him – his perspiration, his passion, his scent. Her heart beat was tapering, her body slowly succumbing to the exhaustion she had denied for so long and in the dark confines of their precinct crib she let out the breath she'd spent 12 years holding.

**End.**


	4. The Wire, Part 1

_Remember that time I tweeted that someone should write a fic where Elliot suspects Liv of being shady so he frisks her for a wire?_

_You're welcome. _

:::::

Something's off with her.

He's noticed for a few days.

It isn't blatantly obvious but even the way she now circles the perp in the chair she seems far less confident, less in control, less self assured.

He watches her fingers as they splay against the metal table and he chews on his lip when he sees them tremble just slightly. To the common eye these signs wouldn't be noticeable but 10 years by her side makes them all but telling.

Maybe it's Porter. Maybe that fuck as done something.

They've been thrust together yet again on a case, one in which Porter has his nose buried far too deep into their jurisdiction.

Speaking of Porter.

Elliot hears footsteps and it isn't long until Porter is standing by his side. Elliot's back straightens immediately.

"How she doing?" Porter asks him and Elliot's fingers curl over. _How she doing? She's been just fine pal. Just fine until you showed up._

Elliot puts the dates together. _A few days.._

"Just a couple more minutes and she'll crack him," Elliot whispers. He's playing nice. After a warning from Cragen he has to, but there's only so long until this fake veneer will wear thin.

"We don't have a couple," Porter rasps and he's already walking towards the door. Elliot reaches out, grasping his elbow, intent on letting her do her _goddamned _job but he yanks his arm before Elliot has a chance to get a firm hold.

The door is opening and he watches Olivia look up in surprise, Porter removes the few steps that separate them before he whispers something in her ear.

He's close. _Too close._

Elliot's eyes narrow, a tightening in his chest causes his breath to quicken. _What the fuck is he doing?_

Porter has a hold of her elbow as he whispers to her and Elliot watches the information register on her face and her expression falls flat. She's pissed.

_Good. _He needs her pissed at him.

He watches her yank her arm out of his grasp and head towards the door, letting it slam to a close behind her. He expects her wrath, her fury to spill out of her in a rash outburst but instead her eyes meet his briefly before she turns and simply faces the double-sided pane and watches the scene play out, a hand raking through her hair the only telltale sign she is frustrated.

"What'd he say?" Elliot whispers, his attention still plastered to the side of her face. He watches everything, the way she flinches at his question, the way her eyes narrow just slightly as if she's debating on weather to respond. He almost hears her swallow before she simply shakes her head, intent on dismissing his question entirely.

His mouth opens, about to press her on it, but his attention shifts immediately to the commotion that has erupted behind the glass.

Porter has Mathers up against the wall, and it's three consecutive thuds of his head against brick that spurs them into action. Olivia pushes the door open and Elliot's hand comes out just in time to stop it from slamming back into his face.

She's on Porter, pulling at his elbow trying to release the hold he has on Mathers and he can see it before it happens. Porters elbow shooting back, hitting Olivia square in the face. _Fuck. _He is right behind her as her body slams back into his from the impact. A small noise rips from her throat but it's nothing compared to the crack he heard from the blow. He doesn't have to grab her or stop her from falling, his body is all the stability she needs to keep upright, but before he has a chance to stop her, she's already back into the thick of the struggle, wedging herself in between Porter and the perp. Porter drives forward practically sandwiching her between him and Mathers and the anger erupts from the back of Olivia's throat.

"_Goddamn _it Porter, stop," she rasps and Elliot watches as he releases his hold on her and Mathers' instantly, stepping back suddenly. Elliot can't see her face at this angle but from the look on Porter's he can tell something's off.

"Jesus," Porter whispers. "Did I do that?"

Elliot doesn't wait then, he tugs Olivia gently around until he the line of blood trickling from her nostril comes into view. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion unaware of the carnage Porter has caused but her fingers quickly follow Elliot's eyeline, pressing against her top lip until their coated in dark red. She shakes her head then, almost in annoyance when she inspects it, like it's part an inevitable of the job.

But it's two seconds of hesitation before Elliot's hand slips from her shoulder, curls into a fist and slams forcibly into Porters jaw.

:::::

"You ok?"

Olivia looks up from the bathroom sink to find Elliot's reflection walking up to her from behind. She turns the tap off, gathers the damp paper-towel in her hand and wipes her face once more to remove the last remaining traces of blood.

"This is the ladies Elliot," she tells him carefully, annoyed that he's ignored that fact. She just wanted a few moments of privacy to clean herself up.

"Cragen's sending me home." Elliot drops the bomb she knew was coming.

Olivia sighs, closing her eyes at the frustration of it all. "You know you shouldn't have done it Elliot," she whispers quietly.

"He elbowed you in the face," he practically yells, his voice reverberating against the tiled walls.

She considers him for a minute, holding his eye contact in the mirror, attempting to let her visible silence calm him.

"It was an accident," she says carefully. Still unsure if it actually was. She watches his eyeline move to the right, as if he's about to launch into a wild debate to contest her statement so she turns around to face him, knowing what she's about to say isn't going to be well received. "King-hitting a fed.. was not."

"Really Liv? He scoffs, shaking his head, "You're taking his side with this?"

"Elliot," she whispers, stepping forward before he starts to take this any which way but the right one. Her hand slips into the juncture of his elbow and she presses down softly, reassuringly, drawing herself ever so slightly closer to him.

She can tell he's confused by her physical contact but it's a delicate situation she's facing and she knows how this is going to sound.

"I'm not taking anyone's side here," she tells him quietly, methodically and it's seconds before she feels his arm slip completely from her grasp.

And as expected, she loses him.

"I don't believe this," he whispers, almost in a state of shock. "You're sleeping with him again aren't you." And it's not a question, but a statement. He doesn't need her confirmation.

Her mouth parts slowly, trying to conjure up a way to defend, to refute, to explain – but there is nothing.

"You take your partners side," he rasps, his eyes narrowing into a heated scowl, "Period."

:::::

Elliot's feet pound the pavement incessantly until he makes his way towards his car. The _bleep bleep_ echoes through the parking garage when he catches sight of Porter, heading towards his own vehicle.

His jaw clicks. He isn't going to start something – _oh no_ – he's going to end it.

He stalks towards Porter, coming up behind him, slamming the car door he'd just opened in one definitive push. Porter swings around, barely affected, as if he'd expected this kind of brash behavior – was prepared for it. But one look at the smug expression on Porter's face and Elliot has him up against the side of the car in seconds.

"Touch her again," he begins, his fist curling around the lapel of his jacket. "And I swear to God-"

"This how you treat all the men in her life Stabler?" he practically spits back, "Like some over protective brother with a hard on-"

He slams Porter forcibly against the car.

"She sees through your B.S. Porter, she doesn't trust you as far as she can throw you."

Porter laughs, his face broadening into a wild smile. "You sure about?" his dark eyes narrowing in on his. "How do you think I knew about Mathers'," he whispers and Elliot swallows. "How do you think I ended up here, by her side - yet again?"

Elliot's stomach drops from the words. _What the hell is he saying?_

"You sure you can trust her Stabler?" he practically scoffs. "She's been wearing a wire for me all week."

Elliot's fist softens, he feels dizzy, lightheaded – like he's almost going to be sick.

_What the fuck did he just say?_

"Bullshit," he whispers. _No._ That makes no sense. She wouldn't do that to him. All week. The precinct. The car. Her house.

"_It was an accident_," Porter whispers, "_king-hitting a fed.. was not_," he repeats Olivia's words verbatim. He wobbles uneasily on his feet. He releases Porter entirely, from shock – from the confusion.

"No," he whispers, swallowing down the bile that's steadily rising up the back of his throat. There has to be another explanation. Maybe he was standing outside the bathroom. Maybe he'd just overheard them, maybe -

"You're daughter," he whispered, "The eldest one, Maureen is it?" he begins as if he could read the skepticism in Elliot's eyes. "She's getting married this fall right?" he questions as if he isn't entirely sure. "You told her in the car during Mathers' stakeout last night."

"Bull. Shit," he repeats sternly. "She told you about it - that's all."

"That sound like information she'd care to share with me Stabler? You think I'd give a shit about that?" he practically laughs, "And when? You were with her all of last night and by her side all morning," he points out.

Elliot puts the timeline together. He feels his fingers curl over. There is a small seed of doubt, a tiny element of disbelief, it's still a possibility that Porter is entirely full of shit, but it's his closing sentence that ends up sealing the deal for him.

"Why don't you find out which side she's actually on."

:::::

He finds her at her desk, clearing papers.

A burnt orange hue from the sunset filters through the office. It's too light to turn on her desk lamp but too dark not to. The bullpen is practically empty.

His eyes drop down to her chest immediately, scanning for the slightest telltale sign that she's wired but it's redundant because the majority of her torso is blocked by her desk.

When she senses him staring she glances up from her papers.

"Cragen's in his office Elliot," she warns him tiredly. "If he sees you're still here.."

She doesn't bother finishing her sentence and he lets out a long, irritated breath in response.

"You got a second?" his jaw clicks, the sternness in his voice more than apparent.

_Innocent unless proven guilty._ He reminds himself.

"Elliot, I'm up to my ears in paperwork, can it wait?" she sighs.

He leans down, bracing himself against her desk, one hand on the back of her chair, the other on the lip of her desk creating a physical barrier.

"No," he tells her slowly.

Her eyes flick to his and he can tell she's registering the seriousness in his tone but she doesn't visibly react. She simply tosses her pen on the desk with a sigh and rises from her chair unbothered by the fact that their shoulders graze in the process.

She heads towards the locker room, a known area they've retreated to when they've needed to speak in private, but instead he motions to the empty interrogation room to their left. She furrows her eyebrows at his unspoken request, but follows his lead, moving through the doors before he closes it behind her.

When she reaches the table she turns around slowly and rests her backside up against the lip. A few beats pass between them as he simply considers her, contemplating just how he intends to start this.

She saves him the hassle.

"This about Porter?" she guesses folding her arms protectively in front of her chest. He can tell by her tone and her body language that she's gearing for a fight but he doesn't take the bait. He simply settles his gaze on her face, the frown lines, the defensiveness, the underlying discomfort she's attempting to conceal.

He isn't sure if it's from his assumption of her and Porter fucking or the wire.

Or both.

"Are you Liv?" he asks quietly, unsure as to why his mode of questioning had gone there first but it's almost as if he needs to know how deep she's in this.

Her eyebrows furrow and she shakes her head looking away with a lackluster smile. "Really El? You came back to grill me on this?" She pushes off the table and walks towards the door. "You've got to be kidding me," she scoffs.

His instinct is to reach out and stop her from leaving, but he needs to tread lightly. So instead he tries stopping her with his words.

"How'd Porter know about Mathers'?" The question stops her just short of the door, her hand poised above the handle.

She turns back a little caught off guard. He knows the line of questioning he's giving her is a gamble. He wants the truth but he's also conscious that without proof he runs the risk of falsely accusing her.

"What do you mean?" she asks.

He's trying to read her but her pokerface displays nothing but confusion.

"How did he know we had Mathers', that he was even on our radar?" He takes a small step towards her, careful to keep the accusation out of his tone. "I mean he just shows up out of the blue on a whim?"

Olivia's hand slips from the doorknob and she folds her arms protectively across her chest before licking her lips.

"I don't know Elliot, the Bureau, Cragen – how should I know who tipped him off?"

His eyes dip from her face down to her chest and then to her stomach. He doesn't know why he's even looking for a wire when she's all suited in black. There'd be no way of knowing for sure unless he flat out asks. _Or searches her._

He watches her shift uncomfortably beneath his gaze before she moves forward, forcing his eye contact back up north.

"You think I tipped him off, that it?" she sounds stunned, her brown eyes flushing with disbelief at what she's hearing. "I can't believe this, where is this coming from?" she practically yells. "Do you really think after everything that I'd willing have anything to do with the guy?"

_Willingly._

The word rocks him.

But he's focusing on the panic, the escalation in her voice, the desperation. She's feeling cornered and she's throwing out these wild defensive excuses. If she really had nothing to do with this she would have walked out minutes ago.

"This is bullshit," she whispers, making a beeline for the door and that last ounce of uncertainly vanishes.

His hand comes out, pushing the door firmly closed before she has a chance to open it. She jumps from the motion but doesn't turn around. She just continues to grasp at the handle, tugging unsuccessfully as he holds the door closed.

"Olivia," he warns and he closes his eyes because he doesn't want to do this, he doesn't want this to be the reality of the situation but needs to know for sure.

"I can't let you leave," he tells her uneasily.

He is close. So close that his mouth is practically tickling the fly away strands on her head and she isn't moving.

He can taste her fear, her hesitation, her panic. She continues to tug at he door handle as if her strength will miraculously overpower his. When she realizes it's redundant she swings around in the small space he's left her with a heated stare.

"What are you doing?" she rasps and he sees the defensiveness up close now - the anger spiralling out of control and it suddenly ignites his own. He removes the remainder of the space between them until her back has no choice but to flatten against the door.

"What are _you_ doing?" he repeats just as earnestly. He knows his weapon of choice is intimidation but it's all he can do to stop himself from finding out first hand if she's wearing a wire.

He sees her hand slip down to the door handle in panic but he's too quick. His hand covers hers, holding it still before she can twist it open.

"Elliot," she warns and he's practically caging her now so she moves her free hand down without hesitation, attempting to yank it off hers but his fingers encircle her wrist before she has the chance, moving it upward and planting it shoulder height against the door. His head nicks her forehead in the struggle and he closes his eyes when he says it.

"Lift up your shirt," he whispers against her temple and her body tenses against his, a noise of shock leaving the base of her throat. For a second it makes him question his tactics, his questioning, Porters validity. But Jesus he's just opened up the can of worms and there is no going back now.

"What the hell?" He hears her rasp and he senses the shock, the fear and he can only pray he is right about this or he is going to have his ass handed to him. He knows he can't confine her for much longer so he wastes no time. His free hand moving down to the lip of her shirt but she's too quick, grasping his wrist and twisting it forcibly away from her body. The moment he starts to feel a twig of pain he twists his hand around, seizing hers before his whole body moves in, pressing her firmly against the door.

"Unh," she expels as he forces all the air out of her lungs and he closes his eyes as his body melds into hers._ Jesus, what the hell is he doing?_ He's got both of her wrists pinned shoulder height now but it's her hip against his crotch coupled with her breasts against his chest that's making his head spin.

"Tell me how he knew about Mathers' and my daughters wedding for Christ sake or lift up your shirt," he rasps against her ear, trying to steady his voice, knowing he's crossing a severe line now.

"I can't believe you," she expels between restricted breaths, and he can feel her heartbeat thudding violently against his in a wild panic. He isn't hurting her but he isn't gentle either and he can feel the anxiety rapidly start to escalate.

He just has to do this he tells himself, put them both out of their misery_._ He releases a wrist, quickly moving his hand straight down to the lip of her shirt and slipping under it. She's moving her hand down to stop him but he's too fast, he's beneath the material sliding his bare hand up her stomach so there's no question.

She gasps as his hand meets with her flesh and the skin-on-skin contact burns. His jawbone knocks her temple as his palm continues to rise and he swallows uneasily. He feels nothing but the smooth, taunt muscles of her stomach and the air that's rapidly filling her lungs.

No wire, just heat and skin.

_Fuck._

When it's apparent his search is redundant he feels her grasp at his wrist and it's a tug of war until the struggle causes his hand to slip incidentally upward, his fingers bumping underwire - lace. _Shit_. He gasps. He hadn't meant for that. There's nothing beneath her shirt but flesh, curves, heat and lace and he's practically just groped her in an interrogation room.

She must have sensed his panic now because she's pushing him firmly off her with force, yanking her wrist back from his capture with a furious look on her face.

"What the _hell_ Elliot?" she rasps barely making eye contact with him.

He's in panic mode, an apology perched ripe on his tongue but it's something about the flush of her cheeks and telltale sign of relief in her eyes that makes him retain a hint of skepticism. She shouldn't be relieved right now, she should be pissed off, angry as hell that he so brazenly forced his hands on her for no apparent reason.

The damage is done he reasons, so when he sees her going for the door there is no hesitation. He grabs her forearms and she twists immediately against him, arching away in an effort to shield her torso from him but it leaves her backside open for the taking. Still clinging to a forearm, he moves his hand to her lower back pulling her closer - sandwiching their stomachs together in an effort to get a good hold of her.

"Get off me," she yells their eyes colliding for one heated, accusatory second but it's the escalation in her voice and the panic in her eyes that tells him he's close. When his hand slips under the material and runs over the small battery pack she bucks harshly against his hold but he's too strong – too pissed to let her go.

_Fuck you Olivia. Fuck - You!_

He slams his free hand against the steal of the door before he can stop himself, missing her head by mere inches. She jerks herself backward attempting to free herself but he's not letting up his hold on her back. Instead he slips his hand higher, following the wire taped up her the length of her spine until he runs over the clasp of her bra. The front of her shirt has risen in the process and he feels the heat from her bare stomach burn through his cotton shirt.

"You _sonofabitch_, get _off_ me," she rasps into the small space he's provided her, fuming at his brazen, cocky behavior.

He knows he should adhere to her demand. He's been holding onto her for far too long. He has his answer - it's clear she's wired but it's the heat from her struggle and the firmness of her thigh between his legs that's delaying her release. _Christ._ She's just betrayed him in the most unthinkable way possible but it's no longer anger that's fighting for domination in the depths of his belly.

_It's pure – fucking – want. _

They've never been this close. This heated. This palpable. This physical. He's never had his hands on her like this. Never felt the tangibility of her rage beneath his fingertips and as pissed as he is at her, it's this newfound pang in the depths of his belly that takes over.

He doesn't want to release her.

He can feel her anger pulsating through her body but so help him God because now he wants to taste it. She fucked up, _royally a_nd with that in mind he allows his eyes drop to her mouth. She's biting into her lower lip in the struggle but he's going to do it. He's going to let his mouth crash over hers before she knows what's hit her, force his tongue between those pursed, anger-fuelled lips, and what would it matter anyway? She's just blown their partnership to smithereens, why not add another nail to their coffin?

But he's on borrowed time he realizes because she's just twigged, the look of shock on her face revealing she knows exactly what his intensions are. It seconds then before his hand slips completely up her bare back, pulling her mouth towards his in one definitive, mind-numbing tug.

"Don't you_ fucking_ dare," she rasps against his lips just before they collide, their heated breaths intermingling in jagged bursts.

His mouth hovers over hers in a painful limbo, the seriousness of her threat rendering him frozen. Then it's the apprehension that sets in and it hits. _Fuck. _They're in an interrogation room fit with a camera. She's wired with god knows who listening on the other line. He has his hands up her fucking shirt. She's demanded he get off her several times and despite any inclination that she could be bluffing, this all could be used against him. His reaction. His actions. His anger. His 'attack' on her. All of it. He needs to let her go and now. She's not on his team anymore remember.

"Are you _done_ Elliot?" she rasps in utter disbelief that he still has his hands on her and he swallows. The accusation in her tone slicing into him, triggering a shift in his gut. _How dare she_, he thinks. How - _fucking_ - dare she. The betrayal, the wire, Porter and now she's turning the tables on him as if he is the one to blame.

"Yeah Liv," he rasps in the small space left between them, his eyes hardening when they flit up to meet hers. "I'm done." And it's seconds before he releases the hold he has on her body and walks out the door.

:::::

**TBC**


End file.
